


Prelude to the Game

by SnugglesGodOfDeath (Richard_J)



Series: Demons' Game [1]
Category: Princess Tutu, Touhou Project
Genre: Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-29
Updated: 2016-09-22
Packaged: 2018-07-10 21:14:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 65,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7007692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Richard_J/pseuds/SnugglesGodOfDeath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A sweet morning in Gensokyo ends in panic as Yukari Yakumo vanishes.  Meanwhile, the reality-warping writer Drosselmeyer accepts a commission for a new work of tragedy.  Drawn into the demons' game, each is tasked with choosing "pawns" from ordinary anime convention goers.  The cunning youkai and cruel writer each have their own agendas, as do the humans, but no one knows what the demons are truly after.</p>
<p>As the game board is set, and the pieces chosen, no one can know how many worlds will be changed forever.</p>
<p>First Arc of "Demons' Game."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Gap and Tragedy

“At first, I watched from a distance, blind to possibility. Then I wanted to share my feelings but no words came. Joy ended and sadness, ever doubled, alone remained. Forgotten, lost, I accepted my fate. But here at the end, once more given choice, I begin anew and defy fate.”

 

  
Alone on the open porch sat a beautiful woman who was neither human nor demon.

A soft breeze carried the scent of out-of-season cherry blossoms to her nose. She sniffed gently, nostrils flaring faintly and twitching in delight. ‘That tree again,’ she thought, partly in amusement. “Honestly. Must it announce her every visit? I enjoy a surprise every now and then.’

She smiled serenely as she gazed out at the nearby forest, not knowing what the future held. Her purple eyes gleamed with nostalgia for adventures now long past.

Yukari Yakumo breathed in deeply as she ran her fingers through her long blonde hair. Twirling a few loose strands between gloved fingers, she quickly planned out how she would greet her long dear friend. Leaning back against the rough wooden doorframe behind her, sighing in contentment, she could let herself relax.

Sitting on the small open porch, watching the forest and listening contentedly to the sounds of someone opening cabinets not far from her, she felt an amazing sense of peace.

Closing her eyes, she imagined a look of feigned annoyance on a young girl’s face. It made her chuckle. ‘I do wish she could be more honest,’ Yukari thought to herself as she raised a hand to shade her eyes.

The feeling of noonday sunlight on her skin wasn’t completely unpleasant but Yukari already found her eyes slinking toward her lacy pink parasol.

It wasn’t summer in Gensokyo but neither was it winter. Little things like temperature and season weren’t much to be bothered by, but even if they weren’t a problem they were not then necessarily a boon.

At times, the heat forced Yukari to regret her preferred fashion choices. Her elaborate white and purple dress wasn’t exactly made for frolicking in the sun. With the top of her head shrouded in a white mob cap, her arms almost completely covered by white gloves, and her legs wrapped tightly in lace stockings, she could not easily be anything but warm in warm weather.

Even with a not insignificant amount of cleavage exposed, Yukari was still just a shade uncomfortable. The heat of the day added itself to her own too readily.

It was probably because she’d chosen to walk part of the way. Yukari rarely traveled by foot but recently she’d had difficulty sleeping. She’d thought a change of pace might help.

Apparently, she’d been mistaken.

Indeed, the mere sight of her upon arriving had immediately earned a reproachful “wait here, I’ll get you something cool to drink” from the current occupant of the Hakurei Shrine’s living quarters.

Still, Yukari smiled. “A lovely day,” she said to herself.

“Not for me,” an irritated voice came from behind her.

Chuckling, her smile growing slightly warmer, Yukari shook her head. She wasn’t about to argue with the girl though. Listening was more than enough for now.

“The morning started out pleasant enough, I suppose. There was a decent offering in the box today,” as she spoke, she set a sake glass down beside Yukari before walking off again. There was a hint of bounce in her step but it was subtle enough to miss if Yukari hadn’t been paying close attention.

“Hmm, was it very much?” Yukari asked, closing her eyes as she pictured the earlier scene in her head.

The girl, barely awake, stumbling to the collection box. The same girl, forced awake by surprise, happily collecting a single five-hundred Yen coin. Her voice as she shouted in joy was most delightful indeed.

“No,” she said, dismissing the donation as if it weren’t really that big of a deal at all.

Yukari twirled her hair and suppressed the urge to leap up and hug Reimu Hakurei. “Too bad,” she offered. ‘Such a tease,’ she thought.

Walking back out on the porch of the Hakurei Shrine, Reimu’s irritated words continued. “Please, as if you care. When have you ever left a donation?”

‘This morning,’ Yukari thought but said “would it not be strange if I left one?”

She countered her dear companion’s question with her own, taking a sip of sake for emphasis, playing at winning the conversation game. Yukari’s face lit up. “Oh my! This is quite delicious, Reimu.”

Plopping down to sit cross-legged next to her, Reimu frowned at Yukari, tea cup in hand. “Its bizarre for a selfish youkai like you to leave a donation,” she said neutrally.

Her reddish brown eyes met Yukari’s for an instant before she looked away, absently fingering the yellow kerchief at her modest chest.

Reimu then took half the cup of tea in one gulp and clicked her tongue in annoyance. Her every move watched by soft purple eyes, her face slipped from surly to soberly neutral. “Glad you like it,” she tossed out reluctantly, feeling that she’d lost.

“It’s not the only thing I like around here,” Yukari said playfully.

“Urgf!” Reimu almost chocked as her attempt to drink more tea nearly ended in disaster.

Yukari reached over and lightly patted her back. The gesture had a well-practiced ease to it. As too was the way her hand came to rest at the small of Reimu’s back, just above the start of her curves.

Reimu caught her breath after a moment and gazed at Yukari, her face a mix of emotions.

“Silly words from a silly youkai!” She glowered at Yukari and spat out a sigh, propping her chin on her upturned hand, her elbow on her trembling knee.

She looked away. Her dark brown hair, almost black even in the bright sunlight, was soon being played with by gloved fingers.

Pouting, Reimu guzzled the rest of her tea down.

Yukari leaned in closer to her and plucked the empty tea cup from Reimu’s bare hand.

“Now that you’ve dispensed with this silly affection,” Yukari said cheerfully, “try this! It is truly lovely.”

As she handed her sake glass over to Reimu, their fingers brushed slightly, and the much younger human girl stiffened. “My morning started quite routinely. Quiet, somber . . . I meditated for two hours straight.” She brought the sake glass to her lips, hesitated, then took a longer and more leisurely sip.

Reimu’s eyes popped open a bit and Yukari chuckled again.

“Indeed?” the youkai said, trying to keep the conversation going, “a two hour meditation? How refreshing.”

“It was actually and I’ll thank you not to take that tone!”

Yukari snickered, her eyes glittering in the sunlight that streamed down on them. She sat back again, drawing away from Reimu a bit. “Two hours, you said? Can that truly be called meditation? Is that not possibly . . . a nap?”

Rolling her eyes, Reimu sipped her sake. “Really, I mean it! I don’t like that tone at all!” She turned toward Yukari and leaned closer.

“Don’t pout, it makes you look childish.”

Reimu blushed and looked away. Her shoulders slumped a bit as she sat straight again.

Seeing that, Yukari sighed. ‘Ah, perhaps I went a bit too far,’ she thought carelessly and quickly conceived of a plan to rectify her error.

“Here,” reaching down, she took the sake glass back from Reimu, this time letting her finger tips brush against the maiden’s hand quite deliberately. “Let me fetch you a bit more.”

A strange rend in the fabric of reality opened next to Yukari. It was shaped as how curtains might fold open when someone parts them carefully, a gap between their edges. The ends of the strange phenomena had red ribbons tied to them, making it obvious that the gap belonged to Yukari and no one else.

The youkai’s parasol, her dress, and especially her hair were liberally adorned with red ribbons. She was quite fond of the color red but also very aware that it didn’t suit her much. ‘A shame really.’

It wasn’t Reimu who first told her that the color red did not suit her, though she had said it more than once after they first met. Still, Yukari loved the color and adored the one wearing it beside her as well.

Reaching into the darkness inside her gap, not bothered in the least by the sight of dozens of eyes staring out at her, Yukari grasped the bottle of sake Reimu had used before and pulled it out. The gap in space closed and ceased to be with but the faintest hints of passing.

“Here, drink,” Yukari said with a smile and freshened Reimu’s sake glass.

The girl accepted it back easily but frowned down into it. This was always the flow of events so Yukari thought nothing out of the ordinary until Reimu spoke.

“Can I ask you a question?” she asked.

“Obviously.”

“I mean a serious one.”

Yukari leaned in. It amused her endlessly that Reimu tensed up and very deliberately avoided looking at the display of creamy white skin Yukari offered along with her ear.

“It’s just . . . I was told of a book last night. One from _that_ shop.”

“Ah,” Yukari had a feeling she knew which one.

Although she herself rarely ventured into the human village, for reasons both obvious and obscure, Yukari had tasked her shikigami Ran to deliver oil and fetch some things the day before. Additionally, she’d taken the chance to gather a little information from the man who seemed to attract objects from the outside world.

It was by pure coincidence, or so _he_ claimed, that he’d found a very peculiar book.

“Did you see it too?”

“Mm, no but Ran did.”

“Oh,” Reimu sighed, “well, but you do know about it?”

“Of course.”

Reimu smiled faintly. “Why do I ask foolish questions when I’m with you?”

“It’s more fun than asking wise ones?”

Mulling that over for a moment, Reimu tilted her head and smiled faintly at Yukari. “Maybe it is,” she admitted, “but in this case it’s wise to ask about that book, right?”

“Indeed. I can say that it is a real thing and, given what Ran told me, I believe it came from not merely outside Gensokyo but perhaps even from outside of our reality.”

“What? From outside reality? What does that mean? Is it the start of an . . . incident?”

Yukari frowned. “I’m . . . puzzled, actually.”

“That’s not good.”

“No. It. Is Not.” Yukari sighed and leaned against Reimu, her head settling into the gap between Reimu’s head and her shoulder.

The priestess of the Hakurei Shrine, the girl whose job it was to exterminate rogue youkai, did not protest.

Reimu also let her head rest against Yukari’s.

“Will I need to act?”

“Hmm, I think it’s likely not a threat to the barrier in and of itself. Still . . . I wonder about it. Its nature suggests . . . _interesting_ possibilities.”

Yukari turned her face slightly and sniffed at the nape of Reimu’s neck.

Reimu’s cheeks grew red. “Yes, well, that may be but it could be an incident too.”

At her words, Yukari shrugged and sighed against Reimu’s skin. The sensation of her breath sent a shiver down the girl’s spine. Yukari could feel her pulse quicken.

“Will you stay long?” Reimu asked, her voice carefully neutral.

Closing her eyes, Yukari drew away slowly. “No, I suppose I shouldn’t actually. I expect to have a guest later today. It would be rude of me not to be there to greet her.”

Reimu sighed and sniffed the air. “Cherry blossoms again? An imperfect scent for an imperfect day.”

Yukari smiled. “I suppose so.”

 

Leaving the Hakurei shrine, Yukari felt a bit lonely. Still, she could hardly be forgiven if she refused to be home to greet a friend because she was off frolicking like a maiden herself.

Besides, Reimu had reminded her about the book.

Summoning a gap, Yukari retrieved the questionable item that Ran had brought her, and once again the strangeness of it all bemused her.

Yukari had seen many things that Reimu had not.

It would not, in fact, be inaccurate to say that Yukari had seen a great many things that no other youkai in Gensokyo had seen or was likely to ever even dream of seeing.

Still, she was fairly certain that in the entirety of Gensokyo, whether human or youkai, nor even among those outside the barrier, did there exist a single thinking entity with knowledge of this book.

Obviously, someone wrote it. Or perhaps, given its nature, _drew_ was more accurate? Equally obvious, and no less perplexing, it was quite a common thing. The back of the thin volume had a brief description of the story between its covers, a price listing, and a bar code.

Yukari had seen similar markings on comparable books brought in from outside the barrier. ‘Doujinshi, I think they call it.’ Additionally, it was made of fairly common materials.

However, this book in particular was . . . unique.

It resembled others of its species quite clearly. It was a book, a common book intended for common people to read, likely mass-produced and sold to many in many places.

Yet, it was also fantastically rare and unique by virtue of finding its way to her hand.

“What a bothersome thing you are,” Yukari muttered. “You troubled my Reimu and you baffle me.”

Yukari stared at the cover of the book.

A drawing as perfect as a photograph stared back.

Two women were embracing. One blonde, buxom, older. One brunette, modest, a young maiden in her perfect years.

“No matter how I try, I cannot deny this is myself and Reimu,” Yukari grumbled, her expression vaguely uneasy.

Inside, the short book illustrated a brief love story about a youkai and a shrine maiden.

It was . . . remarkable.

Yukari reread it as she leisurely walked toward home.

“I wonder who made you,” she absently said to the book, “and where.”

 

Some time later, Yukari arrived home. Had she chosen to walk the whole way, it might haven taken quite a while but she’d gapped her way back after finishing the book.

“How was your visit, Lady Yukari?” Ran asked as she opened the door for her master.

Yukari shrugged. “Who can say?”

Ran giggled then covered her mouth with her hand. “Ah! My apologies!”

“No need. Reimu sends her regards.”

Ran nodded politely. Then, her curiosity getting the better of her, she asked “had she seen it?”

“Just heard of it, mere rumors. Actually, I thought of lending it to her.”

“I’m not sure that would go over well, my master.”

Yukari thought a moment. “Hmm, perhaps so. Fortunately it seems she’s taking the book’s existence as more of a mystery than a malady.”

Ran’s face took on a polite but respectful smirk. “Well, that is Ms. Hakurei for you. She’s quite resilient.”

“Indeed, but I’ll thank you not to imply I’m a nuisance to her.”

Her face not betraying a thing, Ran raised a single eyebrow. “I imply nothing.”

Yukari snickered but shrugged. “Setting that aside, I believe Yuyuko will be paying us a visit today.”

Ran nodded. “Cherry blossoms on the wind, so the phantasmal guest draws near.”

“Such poetic words for a common place occurrence,” Yukari said approvingly.

Ran’s fox ears folded down. “Don’t say things that embarrass me, my master.”

As Yukari opened her mouth to tease her shikigami a bit more, she felt it.

A shift in boundaries. A presence.

Face betraying nothing of the explosion of emotion inside of her, she stared at her shikigami and produced an uncanny smile. She dared not let anything peek around the edges of this mask either. ‘How did it get past the barrier? It is no youkai.’ Yukari sighed inwardly and set about preparing for what was surely to come.

“Ran, please go at once to fetch a few things for me,” Yukari spoke in a commanding tone that made it clear she didn’t want to hear a single word in return. “Go to the human village and buy the nicest and freshest foods you can find then go pester that shopkeeper about the book. I should like to know if he’s recalled anything else of import.”

A brief pause as her mind raced furiously, “oh, and take the cat with you.”

Ran chuckled. “Chen is already out, Lady Yukari. I believe she went to play near the hill of flowers.”

Yukari felt it drawing closer. “Ah, then fetch her too and take care to do it quickly.”

Bowing her head respectfully, Ran asked “would there be anything else I can help with my master?”

Closer. ‘It’s moving fast, too fast,’ Yukari worried to herself.

She opened a gap with a thought. The red ribbon adorned portal reached to the edge of the distant human village. Yukari pointed. “You can help me by being quick about it!” she said more roughly than she meant to.

Ran jerked as if struck but nodded and dashed through the opening, vanishing as it closed. She did not see the expression on her master’s face change.

“Now then,” Yukari muttered darkly, “I demand that you show yourself to me.”

The presence had arrived just as Ran vanished from sight.

For several moments, silence hung.

Yukari did not doubt herself and remained firm. Every fiber of her being knew she was not alone. Eyes narrowing, she sought to find the boundaries of this unseen force that had her youkai heart skipping beats.

A voice came from behind her..

“You sensed me, did you? How . . . amusing.”

She turned slowly, deliberately, and faced the intruder. Yukari betrayed not a hint of her shock. ‘How did it get behind me?’

It appeared human but that was expected. It was almost comfortingly normal. Almost.

“What are you?” Yukari asked, her tone serious, her eyes staring.

“A demon,” the thing in the guise of a male said in complete sincerity.

‘No mere puppet of Shinki could harbor such immense power,’ she thought, unsure why she instantly believed the thing’s claim despite herself.

Then she thought of that book and the matter resolved itself.

Yukari understood. This was a demon from another reality entirely. The rules were undeniably different. ‘I must find its boundaries quickly.’

Stalling for time, she smiled beguilingly at the creature, hoping that some trace of human maleness might exist beyond its surface shell.

“Your purpose?” she asked in an enticing voice.

The self-proclaimed demon thought for a moment. Then it barred teeth in what some might mistake for a smile. “I wish to play a game and I want you to take part as my daemon.”

‘It wants to make me little more than a tool,’ she instantly understood.

“And should I refuse?”

As the words left her mouth, Yukari realized she’d made another error. ‘What a bothersome day this is becoming.’

The demon glared and its mouth twisted further. “Refuse? Do you dare imply you have a choice? Silly little youkai, I shall teach you to regret mistaking my benevolence for free will.”

“Or I shall teach you not to intrude on someone’s pleasant day,” Yukari said, finding the demon’s boundaries at last. She reached out with her ability and manipulated the boundaries without hesitation, rending them to nothingness. ‘Cease to exist, demon.’

As if it had never been there at all, the demon winked out of existence.

Yukari breathed a sigh of relief.

Then, in an instant, she spun around and found the demon there again.

“Bothersome gap hag,” it hissed.

“How?!”

Yukari summoned gaps and orbs of light, causing them to swirl about her in orbits of protection and defense. ‘Not good,’ she thought, diving backwards and through another gap, to the outside of her home.

The demon followed somehow, though she never once saw it open a portal nor did she sense any hint of magic at all.

It was is if it had already been standing outside, arms folded across its chest, and eyes blazing with unrestricted rage.

“Little youkai,” it barked, “submit at once!”

Yukari glared back and shouted “Phantasm ‘Perpetual Motion Machine of the First Kind!’” The spell card activated without the need to properly start the battle as Yukari manipulated boundaries of beginning and endings.

The swirling gaps and flashes of power around her began erupting with secondary attacks that tore at everything before her.

Moving much faster than she would have expected, the demon began dodging. ‘If it thinks it needs to dodge,’ she reasoned, ‘then being hit may hurt it.’

What was different about using danmaku attacks and spell cards compared to using her boundary manipulation ability? Yukari pondered that as she flew high into the air and concentrated on driving her opponent into position.

As countless bullets of light formed then flew at lightening speed, the demon dodged masterfully.

Still, it could only dodge where there were gaps in the cascade of bullets.

Thus, it moved where Yukari wanted.

Now confident that she could hurt it even if her ability as a youkai was ineffective, she manipulated the boundaries of her spell card arrangements once again and summoned her favorite. Then she manipulated the boundaries of play and true battle.

“Do you like trains?” she asked sweetly as she raised her hand and summoned multiple gaps to form on all sides of the demon as her bullets surrounded it in an impenetrable field of death.

The lawn was being chewed to rubble but Ran and Chen could deal with it later.

“Waste Line ‘Aimless Journey to the Waste Station!’” Yukari called out the name of her attack and found it multiplied seven-fold. Seven gaps grew wider and spouted out-of-control behemoths of steel.

Seven copies of the 3500 series train from the Nagano Electric Railway Kijima line spawned and struck. Her attack flawlessly connected. Screaming metal impacted flesh. Yukari actually winced at the sight before it was consumed in a cloud of smoke and debris. She ceased her attack and floated down from the sky.

‘You brought this on yourself,’ she thought, feeling no pity for the intruder. ‘I am no one’s tool.’

The fog of battle lifted quickly as a cherry-blossom scented breeze rushed by, teasing the ribbon-bound strands of Yukari’s hair.

Broken trains and upturned earth competed for worst lawn care results.

Sighing, Yukari rubbed her temples. ‘How will I explain this mess when Ran returns?’

Then, she felt it.

The presence of the demon.

It surrounded her completely.

A chill ran down Yukari’s spine as she turned once more to find the demon standing behind her, utterly without injury, its eyes gleaming vibrant gold.

“Little youkai,” it hissed, “I grow weary of this.”

It raised its right hand and strange energy coursed through the skin and across its fingertips. “Dominion: Demonic Neutrality.” Its words were meaningless to Yukari except in that they signified an attack, one she felt the power of even before it struck.

Yet, there was no physical force at all as the demon simply reached out and touched her skin with one finger.

It was enough. Yukari was defeated. She knew it.

She could no longer sense boundaries. Her ability was completely sealed. Along with it, her spell cards. ‘I can still use Onmyodo but . . . no, I should hide that fact and bide my time.’

“Now submit,” the demon commanded. Yukari bowed her head, resentment almost compelling her to swat at her enemy with her parasol.

‘For now, I’ll play along. I need information if I’m to defeat this thing.’

Yukari drew a deep breath and said “I apologize for my earlier rudeness. Forgive my impertinence, master.”

The demon smirked and took hold of her shoulder. “You belong to me now. As my daemon, you have a job to do.” Shadows swelled up from all around and engulfed them.

Then Yukari felt herself shifted out of the reality of Gensokyo to someplace else entirely.

‘Ah,’ she thought sadly, ‘I suppose that book _was_ a prelude to another incident after all.’

 

The moment that Yukari’s abilities were sealed, Ran felt it. She froze for a moment, feeling utterly confused. Looking all around her, she tried to put what she’d felt into words. Then, just as she thought she’d stumbled on the right descriptive language, she felt all of the energy in her body seemingly vanish. Her nine tails drooped to the dust. The bond between Ran, as shikigami, and Yukari, as master, stretched beyond comprehension to an infinitesimal link that might have been mere illusion.

She dropped the basket of fresh fruit she’d bought and collapsed at the center of the human village.

“Lady Yukari,” she whispered and reached out toward the sun.

Yukari was gone. Ran could sense it.

Her weak body knew.

Her soul knew.

Ran knew.

“No.”

A few humans gathered around her, their expressions a mix of uncertainty and worry.

Ran’s hand dropped only to be caught by a little girl. “Fox lady, are you sick?”

Ran tried to smile and assure her confidently but could only meekly offer “a nap, I need a nap.” Tears spilled down her cheeks even as her eyes closed and all present began to panic.

 

Somewhere far from the Yakumo estate, Chen, a young shikigami, stopped dancing. She dropped first to her knees, a confused expression on her face, then plopped to the dirt.

“Why do I feel so sleepy?” she wondered out loud just before passing out.

 

At the Hakurei Shrine, Reimu was taking a cold bath when she felt it.

The Great Hakurei Barrier shivered. There was no other word for it. The sensation was plain for anyone attuned to sense it.

She’d never felt anything quite like it before. Not during any of the past incidents.

“Damn it,” she grumbled and quickly pulled herself from the water.

Then, as her fingers barely touched her robes, Reimu knew.

“Yukari!” she screamed and forgot her clothes, forgot herself, and flew from the shrine as fast as she could to find her.

 

* * *

 

Infinitely far from Gensokyo, in a room filled with strange clockworks and ticking noises, an old man sat and drank tea. “Ah, what a turn of events! I so enjoy a fine tragedy,” he said, tapping his finger against his cheek. “Still, I do wonder if something isn’t missing.”

His enormous, bulging orange eyes and leering grin were so inhuman that it was forgivable to think him not of the human race. Yet, he was human before and in most ways he still could be said to be so.

The man’s name was Drosselmeyer.

With a gesture, he called forth several mirrorlike things from the shadows.

Different images appeared on each. One showed a beautiful teen girl with black hair and sad eyes. She was lying in her bed, crying. Another revealed scenes of an old city, the people going about their lives without a care. Then, finally, one displayed an oddly clumsy girl with reddish-orange hair, also crying.

“Hmm, my plot is moving along rather splendidly despite all the ad-libbing by the characters. I can’t wait to see the next scene play out.” He chuckled softly to himself and stroked his long white beard. Leaning in close, he whispered to the reflection of the black-haired girl “I do wonder how you will react when you truly realize the depths of your sins, Miss Rue. Tainting that heart shard with Raven’s blood? Hah! Such a perfectly pleasant bit of malicious melancholy!”

“And what will you do, Miss Duck?” he spoke to the girl with bright hair, “will you continue to bring the heart shards to the Prince until you cease to be? Aw, yes, please do!”

Pleased with himself and the progression of the story, Drosselmeyer sat back and sipped his Earl Grey tea. He was not particularly fond of the type but it seemed appropriate for a great writer such as himself.

Besides, it was boring to always drink his favorite blend of Darjeeling and Assam.

Then he felt something odd.

It was as if someone had tapped him on the shoulder, yet he was completely alone.

Turning his head 180 degrees, Drosselmeyer confirmed that no one was in the room with him. Still, the sensation lingered and baffled him.

“Hmm, did I imagine that? Certainly not! There simply _must_ be someone here.”

Hopping out of his chair, Drosselmeyer twisted his head back into place and raised his hands over his head while he crossed his arms. “A person without form? A specter?” He mused on the possibilities as his hands circled over his head, detached and autonomous.

“Fetch me a quill and ink! Fetch them here I say!”

His hands darted off into the darkness.

“I know you are here,” Drosselmeyer spoke into the shadows, “but I can tell you are without form. No matter, no concern! I’ll just make one for you!”

Normally, the old man would never have made such a generous offer but, for some reason, he had a feeling. It was pure instinct but no different from the flashes of inspiration he always felt as a writer. No, perhaps it was more honest to say this instinct was exactly the same.

His hands returned with an inkwell filled with reddish fluid and a feather quill. “Here now, come back to me,” Drosselmeyer said and his hands reattached themselves to the stumps of his arms.

Trotting over to an old desk, Drosselmeyer took up a sheet of parchment and quickly dashed out a few lines of text. Grinning maniacally, he put his power into his actions, letting his blood act as the agent for binding that power to the world. In moments, he was done.

“There now, isn’t that better?”

Before him formed a body. It was strange and inhuman yet something recognizably similar. Drosselmeyer noted the masculine shape, accepting it readily.

“How may I provide you with entertainment, sir?”

What stood before Drosselmeyer was a wraith-like shade, a dark creature most unquestionably not born of this reality. Its piercing eyes flared with red light, as if flames flickered beyond the lids.

Flexing long, thin fingers, it made a fist several times. It was gauntly withdrawn in appearance, so much so that even Drosselmeyer felt an odd sensation of pity.

He wrote another line of text and the creature was wrapped in an enormous shroud of darkness and ragged cloth. It fit the image but would be sufficiently warm as well.

When the thing spoke, its voice was strangely soft despite being quite chilling.

“Drosselmeyer,” it hissed and raised a hand.

A single page of parchment paper fluttered up and to it. Without quill or ink, the thing etched writing. Then the sheet fluttered back to Drosselmeyer and he read it curiously.

“Hmm. Oh! So _that’s_ what you want me to do? Quite interesting.”

Setting the paper down on his desk, the mad writer made a steeple of his fingers. “The issue of payment does come to mind though. I cannot take time from my own masterworks to aid you without compensation.”

“Write an ending,” the creature hissed. “Help me.”

“Oh bother,” Drosselmeyer muttered. “As I feared, it seems I was right. You cannot offer me much, can you? Hmm, I was once commissioned by kings, you know. They paid quite handsomely.”

Drosselmeyer grinned and laughed. “Certainly! I do find this offer intriguing,” he said as the creature drew slightly closer, sensing its emotions without knowing how. “However, I am quite busy at the moment. How can I just abandon _my_ story for yours?”

For a time, the creature was silent.

Then, it raised a hand and offered it to Drosselmeyer.

“Dominion: Dark Gift,” it said softly.

Energy played across its arm and gathered in the palm of its decrepit hand. The flow converged and became a solid mass.

It formed an egg.

As this happened, the creature’s body nearly faded to nonexistence. It had drawn the power to act from its new form. “Write the ending,” it rasped. “Profit the world.”

“Now, I am intrigued,” Drosselmeyer said and cackled so loudly, the very souls of the damned trembled.

Barely hidden in a corner, a small figure observed it all.

 

* * *

 

Yukari found herself in a place.

There were no easy words to describe it. It was just a place, nondescript walls and floor, a blank ceiling. Lacking doors or windows or furnishings, a shade of beige paint had been liberally and excessively applied to all boundaries. The room was, very plainly, dull.

It was just a place to wait. ‘For how long, that’s the important question,’ she thought to herself.

The demon had brought her there and left her immediately.

She felt certain that it didn’t like her much.

‘That feeling is quite mutual,’ Yukari thought as she walked around the room, tracing its contours with her bare fingertips.

“Hmm,” she grumbled to herself, “it’s no use at all.”

Yukari exhaled a long sigh and sat down, her back to one wall, and slipped her glove back on. “I thought I’d sense something with my bare touch but . . . .” Her voice trailed off as she finally admitted to herself that her ability as a youkai was completely suppressed.

“Alone without my power, trapped in another reality entirely. Hmpf, this is vexing.”

“My oh my,” a voice suddenly said from across the room, “what a _dull_ room.”

Yukari looked up slowly, once more restraining her instinctive wish to scream in frustration. ‘Perfect. Now I have company but it’s the worst sort!’ she thought and sighed sadly. Standing up, she brushed her purple dress off and puffed out her chest. ‘Well, I should make the most of this opportunity to connect with another. Perhaps this man has some clue about what’s really going on.’

She thought about something she’d said to a fellow youkai not so very long ago. ‘Hmm, yes, perhaps if I share my feelings with him, then we can double our efforts to escape this situation.’

Taking a breath, Yukari smiled brightly and tried to act the part of a respectable lady.

“Hello,” she said warmly, “and who might you be?”

The man looked at her with strange, bulging orange eyes and grinned madly.

With all the affection of a child enjoying a fine joke, he bent at the waist and bowed most regally to her. “Ah, yes, you must be my opposite number, my coequal parallel, in this most fascinating game! Do let me introduce myself! I am the writer, a storyteller, just a humble scribe and creator of stories.”

The affected tone did not fool Yukari in the slightest. She instantly knew two things about this odd man.

The first was that he possessed great power. It was enough that he thought himself on the same level as her. At the moment, unable to manipulate boundaries to try and shift the limits of her own knowledge of this situation, Yukari was quick to believe this. However, his word choice alone proved her right; scribes are masters of their art and often occupy high positions in society.

Of course, there was the simpler explanation too. Why else would he be there with her if he weren’t powerful and important?

Second, she accepted his claim of being a writer and knew that it likely tied in with his power. ‘Perhaps an ability to alter reality through his story-telling,’ she thought calmly, noting it for future consideration as she got more evidence.

Yukari had some experience with similar youkai abilities.

Lost in thought, she hesitated to respond right away, and Drosselmeyer unbent to stand straight. He reached out to her from across the room, his right hand detaching and floating up to Yukari at a lazy pace.

“Do you prefer the modern way of shaking hands? Forgive me, I have not been in the presence of a true lady for quite some time,” he said with a hearty laugh. “Being dead can be most inconvenient at times.”

Yukari stared at the floating hand for a moment before accepting the gesture. ‘Well, this might be a first,’ she thought.

“Ah, I almost forgot to name myself! I am Drosselmeyer. I assume you are the lady of gaps? The great and powerful youkai?”

His words startled Yukari almost enough to flinch as she shook his hand.

‘He calculated that,’ she realized and reassessed upwards Drosselmeyer’s threat-level. ‘What’s more, he’s clearly better informed than I am. How curious.’

Speaking aloud, Yukari said “enchanted,” and bowed her head to him. “My name is Yukari Yakumo.”

Then she added “I am the Youkai of Boundaries. Some call me the Border of Phantasm as well. Mine is the Uncanny Smile that steals away fear and imparts terror depending on my mood. I am the Mastermind behind the Spiriting Away and the youkai that lurks in the boundaries of all things,” she said with serenity. “It is my pleasure, wordmonger.”

Yukari curtsied as the sampling of her titles sank in. Drosselmeyer withdrew his hand and let it reattach to his stump.

He grinned impishly. “I do believe we will enjoy working together.”

‘I highly doubt it,’ she thought behind her sweet expression.

As she started to turn away from the man, Drosselmeyer’s eyes seemed to light up. “Ah, my commissioner is here!” He spoke delightedly and Yukari turned to follow his gaze.

At one end of the room, she caught sight of a frightful apparition, a cloaked figure of darkness that instantly set her nerves on edge. ‘Demon,’ she realized without needing more than the briefest of instants to consider possibilities. ‘Its aura is like the other one’s.’

Then the demon she’d fought before appeared as well. It exchanged an adversarial glare with the other creature before turning its hostility on Yukari.

“Daemon, you will choose my pawn,” it commanded imperially.

Drosselmeyer trotted over to her side and shook his head sadly. “Ah, so that is your commissioner? Quite unpleasant.”

Yukari found her opinion of Drosselmeyer ever so slightly improved.

“Although,” he offered quietly, “I’m surprised you don’t want to participate in such a grand and maleficent game.”

A sense of unease passed over Yukari again. “Game?” she asked carefully.

Before Drosselmeyer could speak, the other demon started talking.

Hissing every word, its speech seeming to come from some far distance place rather than from its hidden face, the creature said “the game is all.”

“Absurd. The reward is all,” the other demon countered.

“I give you a choice, Drosselmeyer,” the shrouded demon offered.

“Choice? Bah! You shall obey, little youkai!”

Then both spoke in unison.

“Choose my pawn so we may begin the game.”

 

* * *

 

Reimu pulled on her shrine maiden’s attire so rapidly that her arms and legs and head each got caught, earning a frustrated scream from the girl. ‘Yukari’s in trouble,’ she snapped at herself, ‘and you’re wasting time flying off naked?!’

Just as she got her robes on, there was a knock at the living quarter’s door.

A somberly detached voice called out to her, “Miss Hakurei? It’s Ran.”

The surge of adrenaline Reimu felt sent her flying to the entrance. She barely avoided smashing through the door and out to the skies above. Throwing it open after barely stopping in time, Reimu faced Ran and instantly felt her boundless energy collapse.

The shikigami looked awful. Her fox ears seemed to have wilted from depression, her short blonde hair was askew but, most telling, her robes were disheveled and dirty.

“What happened to Yukari?! Wait, what happened to you? Are you injured?”

Ran bowed politely, many years of etiquette branded on her soul, and stepped inside as Reimu stepped back to let her in.

“I was in the village,” Ran offered calmly, “when I sensed her leave this reality.”

Reimu frowned. “Wait, Yukari left the barrier? Is that all?”

Ran smiled softly, her head shaking back and forth. “No, Lady Yukari has left this reality entirely. She is not merely beyond Gensokyo, she is beyond the outside world itself, and beyond all the many places we know exist.”

Her words sent Reimu reeling. “No,” she whispered. “Yukari’s . . . gone? Is she-?”

“No,” Ran chimed in, her voice taking on a faint note of confidence. “No, she is alive. I have no doubts of that now.”

A memory came to Reimu. “The bond you share, is that how you know?”

Ran nodded. “It is so thin I doubted it still existed, but it is there.”

“Then, can you tell me where she is?”

“No. As I said, I can tell she is not in our reality at all anymore. Determining anything more is far beyond my skills.” Ran lowered her head and her fox ears dropped yet flatter. “No, actually, I imagine it is beyond the powers of any youkai, god, or spirit we might be able to find.”

Reimu let her words sink in. They depressed her horribly.

She squared her shoulders and took a deep breath.

“Then we’ll just have to wait for her to come home.”

Ran perked up. “Pardon, Miss Hakurei?”

“We’ll just have to wait. Would you care for some sake?” Reimu offered as she made for her kitchen.

“I’m not sure you understand the gravity of this situation.”

“No, I think I do,” Reimu replied stiffly as she found a cheaper sake than what she’d shared with Yukari that morning. She poured two small glasses. Then, after a moment’s hesitation, poured a third. “You should have Chen leave . . . _her_ . . . a message about this. I shall tell her what’s happened personally.”

For a moment, Ran just stared as Reimu sat down on the porch and began sipping sake.

Then, she picked up a glass and she sat down next to her.

“Master is rubbing off on you.”

Reimu shrugged. “If there’s nothing we can do, then all we can do is have faith in her.”

Ran sipped sake and sputtered a bit. “Blech.”

Smirking, Reimu reached over and put her arm around Ran’s shoulders.

The other woman sighed and wiped at her eyes. “Forgive me, for a moment I forgot myself.” She spoke quietly and looked utterly defeated. “You’re right, we just have to put our faith in master and hope. If you’ll excuse me,” Ran stood up and bowed deeply, “I’ll try to let Chen know to go home and wait for Miss Saigyouji.”

As Ran walked off to send her message, Reimu sat and contemplated the forest.

She thought back to the morning visit. Words left unsaid echoed in her thoughts.

Reimu drank down the rest of her glass, hopped to her feet, and sighed. “Damn it.” She turned in Ran’s general direction and called out “I’m going for a relaxing walk,” then she leapt from the porch and flew into the sky.

Ran returned to smile as she sat down, her eyes on Reimu’s already distant form.

“You can’t help but care about her too.”

 

* * *

 

“So your master didn’t tell you a thing? How rude,” Drosselmeyer muttered as he folded his arms over his chest in a relaxed manner. “Hmm, well, I suppose the game hasn’t quite started yet so what harm is there sharing information?”

Yukari had hoped the old monster would feel like showing off his superior knowledge.

“My commissioner came to me with nothing, just an existence of sorts. I wrote him a body so we could talk and while he is not loquacious, he has told me much. Indeed, I can answer your questions!”

“Then pray tell,” Yukari began with a lovely smile, “what is this game exactly?”

Drosselmeyer nodded and stroked his beard. “Excellent question! While they do call it a game, I suppose it would be more appropriate to call it a duel. The winner shall take a prize and the loser remains the loser.” He paused before ending with “my commissioner has lost every prior duel, save for one draw. It is an endlessly vicious cycle.”

That information intrigued Yukari but she tried to appear merely sympathetic. ‘What would his ‘commissioner’ do if it won?’

“And what is the prize?” she asked.

Again, Drosselmeyer paused. “I wasn’t interested in knowing so I didn’t ask.”

Yukari shrugged. “What of this term ‘daemon’ then? The demon who took me keeps using it but the intended meaning is unclear.”

“Ah, yes, that is something of an official title. It is our duty as ‘daemons’ to act as intermediaries between our respective demons and the true human realm that they come from.”

“Why?”

Drosselmeyer grinned. “The rules governing demonic contracts! My commissioner was quite clear that they are required to be observed at all times but one single factor determines whether a direct or an indirect contract is preferable,” he spoke with a recently converted zealot’s fervor. “Simply put, it is when the demon requires outside powers to fulfill the requirements of the intended contract.”

Yukari mulled that over for a moment. ‘So they aren’t all powerful then,’ she thought and reconsidered how her earlier battle had gone. ‘It came for me because of my ability, something it could neutralize without effort, but still needs? Yes, that makes sense.’

She politely nodded her head at the old man. “So . . . they want our abilities?”

“Of course!” Drosselmeyer threw his hands in the air, letting them soar high above his head. “Yes, exactly so, they need us and we them! Oh, my prize for helping is so magnificent that I almost feel guilty to already have it!” He cackled, then caught Yukari’s expression.

“Is your demon not offering you a reward for services as well?” he asked distressedly.

Frowning, Yukari shook her head.

Drosselmeyer’s face became surprisingly downcast. “Is that so. Sorry to hear that.”

Then his drooping expression became maniacal again. “Ah! But service can be a reward unto itself! Or, perhaps, your reward is to come after your work is done? Our demons do seem quite opposite of each other in temperament.”

His words nudged a gear in Yukari’s brain and she realized instantly that the two demons were behaving as approximate mirrors of each other. It was clear to her that Drosselmeyer’s experience with his demon differed diametrically from her own and, indeed, he seemed to be on friendly terms with it whereas she was adversarial at best.

He had a choice; she was not allowed one.

He already received payment for helping; she had not.

He was happy about this situation; Yukari was pissed.

She smiled and put a finger to her lips, deep in thought. If that pattern held true for other things, and the earlier encounter with both demons certainly suggested it did, she surmised it was likely that one demon might be considered ethically ‘positive’ and the other ‘negative.’

‘It might be more prudent to go along with their ‘game’ for now until I’m sure which is which.’ The thought left her feeling irritated but it was a wise plan. Trying to challenge them now, or just assuming the attitude of her demon proved it the worst of two evils, was a poor proposition. She still lacked critical, need-to-know, information.

She had one last question.

“Tell me, writer, do you know why we are so important to these demons?”

Drosselmeyer grinned and leered back at her, startling Yukari just a bit more than she liked to admit. ‘His eyes are too big,’ she thought.

“Tell me, dear youkai of the boundaries, have you ever heard of anime?”

 

Much later, Yukari and Drosselmeyer stood before the demons again.

“Are you prepared to submit? Will you obey me and choose my pawn, little youkai?”

Her demon’s demanding voice reminded Yukari of an arrogant child fixated on his stomach, first begging for cookies then screaming for them in a tantrum when he was denied. Unfortunately, this creature was not a child. ‘Far too big to bend over my knee,’ she thought.

Smiling serenely, she said “I am at your leisure, my master.”

‘For now,’ she thought with an inner smirk.

“Good, then it is time we departed for the place of choosing! This game cannot begin until we have our pawns and set the game board.” Her demon’s voice was loud and brash.

The other demon, cloaked in its ragged raiment, nodded silently. It seemed to have little interest in controlling the flow of events at all and it already trusted Drosselmeyer’s support.

‘Like two sides of a coin,’ Yukari thought.

With a wave of their arms (one demon’s actions restlessly hurried, the other’s almost laconic) the demons transported themselves and their proxies to yet another reality.

This reality shift was briefer than the prior ones. Yukari felt not even a hint of the shifting of boundaries this time. With her abilities still sealed there was nothing she could do to measure the distances between realities. Uncertainty gnawed at the edges of her thoughts but all she could do for now was ignore it.

‘My time will come,’ she thought with a smile.

Then the transition between realities was complete.

They appeared in a bounded field. She could easily tell as much by the shimmering waves of energy all around them. Guessing it was a camouflaged field since that would make a great deal of sense, Yukari was able to hold back a gasp at the sight before her.

Outside the field, great waves of humanity were streaming toward a single building. Her eyes widened slightly.

Although she had been outside of Gensokyo many more times than she could ever admit, Yukari had rarely seen such great human numbers concentrated in a single small area. The streets outside were literally filled with people and, despite the early morning sun overhead, she was quite sure that it wasn’t a typical crowd on its way to work.

These humans were mostly young. Many were dressed in strange costumes.

Yukari twitched in shock when one such teenager skipped by, dressed in an almost perfect replica of Reimu’s shrine maiden outfit, complete even with the completely non-standard detached sleeves and short top that hiked up just enough to see her navel as she moved. The girl’s laughing face seized Yukari’s heart and squeezed painfully. The youkai buried that emotion beneath her iron will and tried to think.

“Is this . . . Anime?” she asked in an awed tone.

Drosselmeyer tapped her shoulder and, when she turned to look at him, politely corrected her. “No, anime is a form of entertainment for humans. Moving pictures and sound telling a story. Some of these humans are dressed in costumes related to those stories.” He tapped his chin. “Oh, well, I suppose some are gamers or manga readers as well. I do believe _you_ come from a _game_ whereas _I_ am from an anime.”

Yukari jerked at those words. “What? I am from my own world, not some fiction.”

“Oh? But what is fiction really?” Drosselmeyer said, his cold voice dripping with derision. “Is it not but a window unto another world? Our demonic masters simply opened what the humans could merely see through.”

He grinned. “Or could it be that our realities did not exist until the demons’ needed a game board? Perhaps we _are_ merely fictional characters that mistakenly believe themselves to be true beings. Does it really matter in the end?”

She had no answer.

Yukari once again stared out at the humans beyond the boundaries of the hidden field, a new respect and awe for them. Whether they were merely voyeurs peeking through windows, or the creators of the worlds they watched, the fact remained that they were observers of her world.

‘Who knows how many secrets they know,’ she thought as she recounted many of her own adventures that might be worthy of entertaining others. When Yukari thought about it like that, she felt her heart racing again. The revelation of the true nature of her reality stunned her. Were it not for the sheer overwhelming power she’d faced before from the demon, she would have been tempted to deny things entirely. However, having fought that creature, Yukari accepted the truth readily.

Even so, part of her longed to deny it. Much as she had denied the truth of the cherry blossoms once before, she wanted to sleep away until reality chose to conform more closely to her desires.

That was, of course, childishly naive. Reality was as it was. There was no value in denying nor victory in acceptance.

There was only loss. Everyone loses to reality.

Except, perhaps, these demons.

Yukari considered, ‘is their true power that they come from this over-world, this reality in which mine is considered a mere fiction? Would my ability work on them otherwise? Or is the answer simpler than that?’

Yukari felt irritated so she set aside those thoughts entirely. They were vexing and pointless until she had more information. ‘I’ll just have to ask one of them eventually,’ she thought as she gazed out at the humans.

‘I do hope one of you can aid me in resolving this strange incident.’

 

  
“By believing passionately in something that still does not exist, we create it. The nonexistent is whatever we have not sufficiently desired.”  
-Franz Kafka

 

End of Chapter 1

Next Chapter: Duty of Daemons


	2. Duty of Daemons

“I had longed for this. Dreaming, hoping, praying, desiring only this. No joy nor sorrow could ever equal my hunger. Offer it to me, give it to, and I will be whole. I will be a god.”

  
It was the first day of All Anime Allure Con and Yukari had no idea what her demon intended for her to do. She was alone with her thoughts and little more.

After being shown the waves of humanity heading for the convention center, the demons had returned her and Drosselmeyer to the beige waiting room. There, she’d talked more with the writer but learned precious little. Then his demon had come for him, leaving Yukari alone for what felt like years. She supposed the wait was far less but couldn’t be certain.

In that time, she’d thought about the demon that had taken her.

Although it lacked a clear weakness, she’d found herself pondering its concern about her danmaku and spell-card-based attacks. ‘If it can survive losing its boundaries, then why . . . ?’

The demon in question had come to Yukari, interrupting her thoughts, less than an hour before. Having ended the pondering of strategies to use against it, the demon pressed a bag into her hand then took her from the bland room between worlds without a word. Passing through realities as easily as through air, it transported her to the same bounded field as before. Except, the area outside the field was different this time. It was clearly inside of some sort of building.

Without a word, it had casually shoved Yukari out into a massively crowded room filled with humans. It was a small miracle her sudden appearance didn’t cause a panic. Without orders or experience with anime conventions, the great youkai of boundaries fled the chaotic scene of her arrival, hoping for once to minimize her surprise appearance’s impact.

Briefly floundering without direction, she decided to view everything up to that point as a learning experience, though she feared her luck would not last if she failed to learn quickly. Fortunately, as learning curves went, Yukari’s was surprisingly flat.

Although she had never before been to an anime convention, for fairly obvious reasons, she quickly realized that they weren’t all that difficult to understand. Once she’d stopped to thin, Yukari noted that, at their core, they were little different from the festivals she was familiar with. Knowing that, she calmed down and blended in as best she could.

Matching the flow of the people around her, Yukari calmly walked around the enormous convention hall, taking in every sight and sound and smell. There were bright decorations and pictures of countless characters. Her ears sang with the multitudes of voices, sometimes cheerful, sometimes angry, always present. Though she didn’t care much for the odor of sweat, there was a pleasing naturalness to human aromas that comforted her.

The unique scent born from humans. Like a perfume only she, a youkai, could truly savor. She breathed it in gently as she walked.

It reminded Yukari of _her_.

Unnecessary thoughts rose up.

Ghostly echoes of soft touches, of lingering traces of warm fingers entwined with her own, staggered her.

Yukari sighed, memories of red flooding her head, and made her way through the crowd to a grouping of tables. There she sat, dropping onto the cushion. Setting aside thoughts of a sweetly surly smile, she rubbed at her eyes, and started sorting through the contents of the bag she’d been left with.

Each item was mundane; each amazed her nonetheless.

First was a false ID. A plastic laminated card with what she surmised were government insignia. ‘Very official looking. Surprisingly fetching photo.’ Her fingers traced over the name [Asagi Hearn.] ‘Though somehow, I feel insulted.’

Next she found a ticket for the convention with some legalistic disclaimers on the back. ‘Most professional indeed,’ she thought after giving it a once over, ‘but I’m already inside. Perhaps I should tear it myself?’

And there was a plastic card with the hotel’s name on it, apparently a room key, but with no number. ‘I suppose it works . . . but where?’

Finally, Yukari pulled out a wad of strips of paper. She wasn’t sure what they were for. ‘Certainly these are not meant for cleaning my . . . no, certainly not.’

She pondered them for a moment before snorting.

“The numbers and faces . . . ah, of course, this is currency then.” Hearing her own voice reinforced her self-remonstration. She shook her head and tapped a finger against her temple. “She would have recognized it as such instantly.”

Even from where she was sitting, Yukari had but to glance about the convention hall to see people exchanging similar green paper for books, figures, cases labeled DVD and BLU, and a myriad of other items.

She blushed at not catching that one immediately. When she was shoved out into this new and intimidating world, she’d suspected some things were similar to the modern world outside Gensokyo. From that moment to this current instance, Yukari had been steadily accumulating necessary knowledge to function so far beyond the Great Hakurei Barrier.

‘How long before I can find a way back home?’

Sighing, she returned the items to the nondescript bag.

Each had a purpose and likely she would need them. She had no doubt that her demon had little intention of explaining its plan. Every resource was now precious.

‘Even the tiniest scrap of knowledge or the smallest stone can be crucial in defeating an enemy,’ Yukari thought to herself as she sat leaned in her chair. Setting the bag on her lap and staring up at the ceiling, a slow sigh escaped her lips. Loneliness washed over and through her.

Yukari covered her eyes with her arm.

“I must resolve this incident no matter the cost.”

 

“Rules,” hissed the demon cloaked in tattered rags.

The word carried with it a thousand unspoken realities. Its speaker tapped a spindly finger upon a massive book. “Agreement needed.” Its cold voice seemed to echo from some distant pit of Hell, yet it was wretchedly loud in the ears of its opponent.

“Haven’t I indulged you enough in this game?”

It spoke in a clipped tone, its eyes drawn down and its lips curled in a sneer. Glaring down at the book, it waved its hand and clicked its tongue harshly. Dressed in a fine suit now, it looked every bit the gentlemanly human. Only its personality betrayed its childishness.

Across from it, the wraith-like other bowed its cloaked head. A rasping whisper flowed out from the darkness as its red eyes glimmered like blood in the moonlight.

“Pawns.”

The suited demon rolled its eyes. “My already numerous concessions aren’t enough? Bah! Then I propose a limitation! The pawn chosen by your daemon shall not have the range of my pawn.”

It grinned, expecting its opponent to blanch at such a rule.

“Agreed,” the wraith hissed before saying “souls.”

Thrown off balance, the suited demon spoke without thinking “ah, the same rule as our previous game.”

The wraith leaned forward and quickly spoke. “Agreed,” it said before any further change could be added. Repeated for countless games before this one, the suited demon thought that every possible loophole and trick had already been exploited, so it never doubted its choice.

Thus the rule was set and the final negotiations ended.

Left alone, the suited demon crossed its arms petulantly and brooded for some time afterward. Somehow, it felt that it had been tricked.

‘Clever enough, but I’ll still win this. Just like always.’

It conveniently ignored the results of the last duel.

‘Still,’ it thought as it closed its eyes and tapped a finger on the book, ‘what sort of pawn will its daemon choose this time?’

 

“Are you listening to me, old man? Do you think I’m just talking to myself here?!”

The shouted snarl was loud enough to carry over half the dealer’s hall.

A dozen convention goers froze before quickly walking away from the confrontation taking place. Some stopped to watch as a teenager balled his hand into a fist and held it up under an elderly man’s chin. Several pointed their phones at the scene and stared recording video, a few uploading theirs in real-time as they affected outraged expressions in silence.

“Calm down, kid!” Jerry, a grey-haired dealer, took a step back and raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Just. Calm. Down.”

The teen exploded.

“CALM DOWN! ARE YOU SHITTING ME?” he roared.

Now everybody in the area froze and turned to stare at the scene. A teenager, dressed in black jeans and a **Gundam** T-shirt, screaming at a short, grey-haired man who couldn’t have been younger than 50. Everybody stared in confusion.

Jerry was wearing an anime-themed T-shirt as well but it wasn’t something appropriate for his age. His choice of wardrobe was, in fact, the cause of the argument.

The dealer was wearing a Sena Kashiwazki T-shirt.

Expecting something vaguely close to the camaraderie of the con shared by dealers and con goers alike, Jerry had complimented the teen’s shirt. Unexpectedly, that had triggered an instant scornful insult about his Sena shirt. Taken aback, Jerry had tried to defend his choice of clothing by simply explaining that he liked Sena because she resembled his granddaughter.

That had made the young man in front of him, now seething like an enraged bull surrounded by porcelain, even more aggressively insulting. The present situation seemed bound to escalate.

“Do you actually watch that harem garbage?” he demanded.

“So what if I do?” Jerry asked nervously.

The teen shook his head forcefully and practically spat back “that’s what’s wrong with the whole fandom! Mecha is the ONLY anime worth watching! Are you senile or something? Do you not understand the greatest of the classics? Tomino is a damn God among men for his creations and you’re killing your brain cells sucking down otaku tripe like that!” He pointed at Jerry’s shirt as if Sena were Satan.

Others suddenly came to Jerry’s aid.

“Jeez dude, it’s just anime. Chill,” said one guy dressed in a **Star Wars** Jedi outfit.

“I love **GUNDAM** too but Haganai’s not bad at all. One of the characters is even a mecha fan! The show promotes mecha because of Rika!” That observation came from a plainly dressed teenage guy in glasses.

A lone girl spoke up, “I don’t like mecha or harem anime but I don’t have to act like a bitch about it either.”

Glaring back at everyone, the mecha maniac grimaced like he’d bitten into a rotten apple. “Whatever. I can’t believe they let losers like you into this con.” He spun around and walked away, hands shoved into his jeans, still steaming over the whole incident.

“You okay, sir?” the girl asked Jerry as he practically collapsed into his chair.

“Sure, but that was way too intense for this old man.”

The Jedi grinned. “Too bad you couldn’t pull some Obi-Wan moves on that A-hole. It would have been sweet.”

“Totally,” said another guy walking up, “that was crazy. Was he seriously about to beat up Jerry over his Sena shirt?”

“I could kinda understand if it was a Yozora shirt but . . . ,” the plainly dressed kid chuckled and stepped up to the front of Jerry’s booth. “Any discounts for a fellow Sena fan?”

“Dude, are you really asking for a discount after that?” Jedi asked, eyebrow raised.

“This guy has a complete set of VIZ’s first release of Maison Ikkoku. I need a discount to afford it! Oh, and one do-it-yourself paper talisman kit too. My sister is cosplaying Sailor Mars.”

“Oh snap, I am all over that Maison Ikkoku, discount or not!” the girl said with a laugh. “I love Rumiko Takahashi’s stuff. Inuyasha for the win!”

“It’s those ears. Chicks dig those dog ears,” Jedi said as he nodded sagely.

“I cosplayed Miroku two years ago and totally got away with roleplaying him,” another con goer said as he walked up on the conversation.

The girl groaned and shook her head as all of the men, including a now grinning Jerry, laughed about that.

Observing all, a pair of blood-red spots blinked out and relit over and over. A cold stare fell upon each con goer before moving to the next. In the end, the eyes followed only one: a single human grumbling about how the convention was full of losers.

 

Yukari relaxed in a quiet alcove of the convention hall, brooding for a time.

The easiest way to resolve the incident and get back to Gensokyo was to fulfill the demon’s demand. That was certain. However, even were she inclined, she wasn’t sure how to go about it.

Part of her wanted to simply choose the first human she saw. Yet, that idea bothered her deeply. Pride and wisdom agreed that she couldn’t take her choice lightly.

Something scratched at the edges of her thoughts, a clawing certainty she’d already missed an important clue to resolving matters. Like some vermin, that thought gnawed at her near constantly but she couldn’t think why.

‘Am I missing something?’ Sighing, Yukari pulled her fan from a carefully hidden pocket in her dress and flipped it open. As she soothed herself with a gentle breeze, pouting, she let her mind wander over countless little details. ‘Did I overlook a clue? Or not?’

‘So vexing,’ she thought. Her perceptions of reality had been challenged in countless ways recently. Drosselmeyer’s persistent chattering about storytelling tropes and various fictions had seeped deeply into her thoughts. Mulling over things, she tried to nail down what she did know to be true.

It was lazy thinking to assume herself the heroine. That role might not yet be assigned.

Worse, she lacked a clear understanding of what the ‘plot’ was about.

‘If this is a story, and I but a character in it, then what role have I been assigned? Protagonist or mere false lead? Is Gensokyo to be the final setting? Is this world? Ah, there are too many possibilities.’ Yukari fanned herself and doubted. Of all the oddities surrounding her currently, she found the need to take proper writing techniques into account particularly odd. Yet, such was a mere trifle compared to her deeper concern.

Sickeningly, she questioned the meaning behind the very existence of a place like Gensokyo and, disturbingly, _if she even truly existed in a meaningful manner_. ‘If I am merely a character in some story, then what chance do I actually have against a creature from the true reality?’ Her thoughts were bleak.

Yukari couldn’t keep her head clear no matter how hard she tried. At best, she drove her doubts down and kept them beneath the surface of her mind. That let her concentrate on the task at hand while she mulled them over on a deeper subconscious level.

It wasn’t unusual for her. Anyone of higher intellect commonly did the same, or so she believed. Thinking of that small bond with others helped her to feel less lonely.

‘Wait,’ she thought and blinked several times. Setting her fan down, Yukari dumped the contents of her bag on the table, reexamining each item.

ID. Room Key Card. Ticket. Paper Currency.

One of the items now struck her as wholly unnecessary.

Yukari held the plastic card up close to her face, her nose almost touching it. She turned it around carefully, methodically, studying every detail. Rereading each and every word on it, Yukari finally realized part of what had been bothering her before.

‘The demons want us to choose their pawns quickly and begin their little game,’ she thought to herself, her mind reeling with the implications of her realization. ‘If that is so,’ she calmly asked herself the obvious question, ‘then why should I need a hotel room at all?’

 

* * *

 

On the open porch of the Hakurei Shrine, Reimu sat cross-legged, a cup of tea balanced on a plate resting on her knee. She stared up at the dark sky filled with stars. It had taken a while but she’d finally calmed down enough to accept the truth: there was nothing she could do at all. Whatever force had come and taken Yukari away, she was powerless to defy it.

All she could do was rest and pray.

Actually, she always did those things unless Yukari pestered her into taking care of some irrational errand or some strange incident occurred.

She had never before realized how pathetically useless she really was.

“Are you coming to bed, Miss Reimu?”

Turning at the sound of Ran’s voice, Reimu shook her head. “No. And forget that ‘Miss Reimu’ stuff. Just Reimu is fine.”

She sighed and went back to staring at the sky.

A moment later, Ran sat down beside her, still fiddling with the collar of her nightgown. Her nine fox tails were standing on end, very still and stiff.

“I keep thinking about that time with the tengu reporter,” Ran spoke as if talking to herself, “Miss Shameimaru wanted to rescue me but I was actually very happy at that time.”

“Wasn’t Yukari hitting you over the head with an umbrella?”

Ran smiled and chuckled. “Actually, it was her usual parasol, not something so heavy as a proper umbrella. That silly bird exaggerated everything. She even called it ‘animal abuse’ for goodness sake!”

Involuntarily, Reimu snorted laughter before returning her gaze to the sky. “I read that article. She really went off on Yukari.”

“Indeed. My master wasn’t exactly pleased. She called the paper rubbish of a sort unfit to line a pet’s cage.”

Ran curled her tails around herself and hugged them close to her chest. “It’s funny, the tengu’s concern _did_ make me happy too. But Yukari’s anger and her discipline . . . those made me much happier.”

“Masochist.”

Ignoring Reimu’s teasing, Ran leaned down and buried her face in her tails.

Very softly, words came in confession.

“I’d . . . acted . . . on my own, you see. They . . . I could have been hurt. Master was so upset that she hit me, even though that only made her more upset. It didn’t hurt much; I cried out in surprise more than pain. Then she had to put on a show for that tengu reporter, playing the part of the harsh master disciplining her rebellious servant.”

Ran sighed and squeezed her eyes tight.

“That was the first time . . . I realized how much I meant to her.”

Beside her, Reimu sipped tea quietly. She watched the stars and pretended not to hear Ran’s tears soaking into the fur of her tails.

For a time, neither spoke. Then Reimu set her cup, plate and all, on the porch.

Standing up, she stretched and frowned.

Words tumbled out from her without warning.

“The first time we kissed, I thought she hated me.”

Ran’s tails perked up. She’d heard the story before, she thought in its entirety, but Reimu had never said these words to her. Neither woman looked at the other. These private memories were shared with the sky more than with each other. The pact of confidence meant listening quietly and accepting all.

“I thought she hated me. Really, I did.” Reimu’s downcast face betrayed a wistful nostalgia but her voice was strained. “With good reason I might add.” She bit her lip and shook her head. She clenched and unclenched her fists.

“She told me,” Reimu’s voice broke, “to fill my heart with hatred and loathing for her, that she wanted me to be more fearful. I didn’t know what to think. She caught me so completely off-guard. I flew away in shock.”

“Lady Yukari can be quite melodramatic.”

Reimu smiled and chuckled, sniffing and wiping at her eyes as she did.

“Yes, you said as much back then.”

Reimu looked back up at the stars. “You know, if you hadn’t told me the rest of the story about that damned youkai cherry tree . . . then I really might have started to hate her.”

Ran shook her head. “I doubt I prevented any such tragedy.”

“You should take more credit for your hard work.”

“Ah, but I’m a masochist by nature,” Ran said with a wink.

Reimu nodded and sat back down beside her. She leaned against the doorframe.

“Do you think our emotions are strong enough to carry over beyond death?” Reimu’s voice was such a faint whisper that Ran wasn’t sure the words had been meant for her ears.

Still, she answered them.

She was Reimu’s friend after all.

“I can’t say for sure. Who can? But I do know how deeply ingrained you are in my master’s heart.”

The two sat in silence for quite some time after that.

A soft breeze carried with it the faint scent of midnight dew. Symphonious melodies of animal and insect sounds blended into night song.

“I’m going to ask her for help.”

Reimu’s announcement startled Ran. “Hm? Who?”

“The Scarlet Devil.”

Ran’s eyes widened. “Certainly not! This isn’t the sort of situation you can point her at and expect good results. It’s not that I doubt her sincerity,” Ran hastened to say, “but she tends to be rather . . . dramatic . . . about things. Then there’s the magician’s quirks to consider.”

Reimu waved away her words. “Whatever! I can’t just sit back anymore.”

“I do understand your feelings but-”

Ran was cut off by Reimu’s eyes. They caught the moonlight just right and almost seemed to gleam. Hearing her silent plea, Ran closed her own eyes, smiled gently, sighed.

“-but I suppose you’re going to go anyway,” she finished.

“I am.”

“Then take care in dealing with them,” she cautioned her friend. “They could just as easily see this crisis as an opportunity for mischief. It’s not as if she couldn’t readily fill the power vacuum if my master’s return were prevented.”

“No, I _will_ make them help us.” Reimu’s frown suggested that there would be a considerable amount of pain involved in refusing her. “Besides, we can trust her more than that. At least, I think we can.”

Reimu winced and pressed her hand against her forehead. “Besides, this situation can’t go on any longer. We can’t go on like this either! It’s too much.”

“I know, but still . . . .”

“Ran, we have to try something,” Reimu pleaded. “It’s already been more than a week since Yukari was taken from us!”

 

* * *

 

“Excuse me, can I get a picture?”

A cheerful voice stirred Yukari out of her racing thoughts. Hundreds of potential scenarios faded from thought as she looked up to see a gentle smile and soft brown eyes.

She drew in a sharp breath.

It was the girl dressed as Reimu. The same girl she’d seen that morning in the crowd outside. She was smiling and gesturing at a camera.

Clenching her fists painfully tight, keeping them at her sides, Yukari tried to smile but her lips wouldn’t quite obey her. She started to speak but only a slightly pained noise came out. Turning away for a moment, Yukari tried to compose herself quickly.

‘She caught me off-guard. Surely the great and powerful youkai, Yukari Yakumo, is not so weak as this,’ she berated herself silently as a single tear fell. ‘Not even a full day has passed yet since I was demoned away from Gensokyo!’

Sniffing and absently wiping her eyes dry, Yukari didn’t notice the girl drawing nearer.

“Are you okay?” the false Reimu asked as she reached out and touched Yukari’s shoulder. The gesture’s kindness helped Yukari break out of her emotional fit.

Her Reimu wouldn’t have been so gentle. Sarcasm and violence were more her precious priestess’s style. The direct approach.

‘Yes, my Reimu is much more direct.’

Countless moments in memory drifted in her thoughts. Some spent freely laughing and smiling, a precious few tender and secret, all of them shared with a human not so different from this girl.

They gave Yukari strength. In an instant, she had a simple plan in mind.

She closed her eyes, drew a breath, then looked to the girl who might help her.

“I apologize, you startled me.” Yukari smiled and stood up straighter. “You see, I’m trapped in your world right now. My gaps are sealed and I’m not sure I’ll ever see my beloved again.”

‘Directness always seems to work for my Reimu,’ she thought as she studied the girl’s face for an adverse reaction.

The girl stared at Yukari for a moment. Then she let out a small laugh and put her hands on her hips. “Never thought I’d meet an adult **Touhou** LARPer.” Her face was bright and warm. And just a little dismissive. As Yukari intended, the cosplayer wasn’t taking her plight seriously, but she was taking it as a sign of shared interests and comradery.

“Hey, were you in Atlanta last year? I heard there was an epic danmaku battle at Anime Weekend.” The girl smiled freely and added “oh, my name’s Alice by the way.”

“Hmm, no, I’m afraid I’ve only just recently arrived here from Gensokyo.”

Alice snickered. “Well, if you’ll let me take your picture, I could escort you around the convention for a bit. Answer some questions about the ‘real world’ for you.” Her voice carried a slight tone that nettled Yukari a tince.

But Yukari smiled on the outside as she stood and struck a pose with her parasol.

After that, they spent time together strolling and chatting.

Bit by bit, Yukari eased stray fragments of fact from the false Reimu. Rapidly, she learned more about this odd reality. Then, she worked her way organically around to the subject of her hotel room.

“Oh? You’re not sure where your room is?” Alice asked, sounding quite surprised by an impromptu story about being slightly lost.

Yukari paused for a moment then explained “well, someone else chose the room for me. They left me with the key but . . . .”

“Your friend kinda sounds like a jerk.”

The honest and direct assessment reminded Yukari of another wearer of red and white.

“Do tell,” she sighed and shook her head. “Ah, if you would be kind enough to guide me, I can pay you for your trouble.” Yukari started to take some of the green paper strips from her pocket but Alice waved her away.

“Heck no! Don’t worry about it. We cosplayers have to stick together.”

She led Yukari to the front desk of the hotel. “This guy can help you,” Alice said with certainty. As she turned to leave, she paused. “Oh, hey,” she started, her voice lower and serious, “it’s not my business but LARPing isn’t exactly the best hobby. You shouldn’t mix fiction up with reality, it’s not right.”

“Oh?”

She nodded. “Yeah, you don’t want people thinking you’re weird, right? Anyway, I’m heading to my room too. My wig’s really starting to itch!” Alice smiled a little sadly as she waved goodbye and promptly disappeared back into the convention crowd.

‘A pleasant enough girl,’ Yukari thought to herself. ‘Sad we won’t see each other again.’

Turning her attention to her goal, she beamed at the fellow behind the hotel’s reception desk. “Pardon me, but I need my room number and directions please.”

The man rolled his eyes and muttered something that Yukari didn’t quite catch. She suspected it was along the lines of ‘does she know she’s an adult’ or something similar. The dismissive tone and general rudeness was almost enough to make her want to recommend him to a cooking team.

“Excuse me, but can you help me?” Yukari asked politely, leaning forward just a bit to offer a glimpse of her womanly charms.

“ID.”

Sighing, she stood straight and pulled out the fake ID, handing it over without further attempt at being sociable. ‘Must this man be so unpleasant and disrespectful? He should show me more respect. Indeed, he should show everyone here more respect.’

The man looked over Yukari’s ID for a bit, then used some odd device. She thought it might be a computer but it didn’t quite match the machines she’d seen before. It was much smaller and flatter and appeared to be very lightweight.

‘Perhaps there is a technological gap between realities?’ That thought led her to another, ‘could that mean the flow of time differs as well?’

He handed her back the ID along with a sheet of paper that came from a printer. That machine at least looked moderately familiar in design. Though it too was smaller than the ones Yukari was familiar with.

Without a word, the man went back to whatever it was he did when not dealing with a guest. ‘So rude,’ Yukari shook her head as she walked away, reading the printout.

It was a basic rundown of information related to her stay at the hotel. The room number was most important but it also included a list of amenities specific to her reservation. ‘Humph, that creature is being strangely generous.’

Then Yukari stopped dead still.

The room was reserved . . . for two.

 

Quite far and apart from Yukari’s directionless day searching for her purpose and her hotel room, Drosselmeyer had already spent many hours watching the crowds of convention goers. He feared he had still longer to endure. With studied boredom, he mused “how drab, not a one is standing out. How can we possibly make a choice.”

The organizers chose to call it All Anime Allure Con but as far as he was concerned it was more like Boredom Con. ‘Where is the tragedy and adventure? To think, they’re all here because of their love for stories yet they do so little to make their own tales interesting. Humans are so . . . bland.’

He wasn’t walking among them like Yukari. Nor was Drosselmeyer without his directions. Back in his home reality, he was monitoring the humans, searching for interesting ones. Even from there, every detail was known to him, from the humans to his important role in the story.

His task was deceptively simple.

He turned to his demon and grinned widely. “Have you decided yet?”

The rag-clad wraith shuddered and turned its hooded head slowly to him.

It seemed this demon had difficulty getting started with things. Drosselmeyer expected the other one wasn’t good at finishing things. ‘Yet that one somehow pulls off a win in every duel. That must be why I’ve been brought in! A fresh eye for detail and a keen mind for mayhem!’

In a raspy voice, the demon beside him spoke.

“Choose.”

“Oh no! No, no, and certainly not! I could never take such a pleasure for myself!” Drosselmeyer proclaimed with a laugh. “Indulge, indulge, and share with me your choice after! I am merely your proxy after all. A daemon’s duty is that of the supporting character! I am no star of the stage, my commissioner.”

His words were true. So long as he ultimately approved of his demon’s choice then the rules of demonic contracting were fulfilled. The pawn’s role was so much more important. Too important to be his decision alone.

More than that, Drosselmeyer preferred merely to enjoy the flow of the story for now. As time went on, he could help to push it in the right direction, much as he had in suggesting changes to the rules of the game. His writer’s sense was already tingling with more ideas.

As such, he found the wait interminably long. He longed for the duel to begin, this mad game the two played! He was ready to wield his pen for the sake of his master and twist the flow of events.

While planning the plot alleviated Drosselmeyer of some of his boredom, much still remained. He still had to aid his demon in sifting through the sea of humanity for a decently intriguing protagonist. His creative choice of duties spared him precious little time for himself.

‘Bah, this search is ever duller. I’d much rather be chronicling the egg’s development.’

Since giving Drosselmeyer the egg to care for, his demon had not left his side. Yet it somehow managed to see much more than he did. It wasn’t clear how and he had no intent to investigate the matter.

Whether back here in his own reality or in that dull other one, his demon remained near him. It did not speak often. When it did, it was often a request of some sort. Drosselmeyer accepted every direction eagerly, his writer’s sense telling him to savor this new experience.

He accepted his demon’s every whim with the exception of its order to actually choose one of those boring bit players. He just couldn’t stand to watch those silly humans for some reason; the idea of elevating one to a lofty role left him less than pleased.

For recreation, Drosselmeyer studied the many mirror-like windows into his own tale of tragedy. Events seemed to have progressed not a cat whisker’s width since he’d left.

That too was somehow disappointing and _boring_.

“I do wish something interesting would happen,” Drosselmeyer said with a sigh as he brought up an image of the egg on a mirror. ‘So much tragedy waiting to be born! How I long to see it hatch.’

Beside him, the demon shuddered and raised its head.

“Hmm?” Drosselmeyer’s eyes grew wider and his face twisted into a wicked smile. Without a word said, he knew. Everything was about to change forever.

The game was drawing ever closer to its beginning.

“Chosen,” rasped the demon.

Drosselmeyer chuckled mirthlessly.

It was the first day of All Anime Allure Con and Drosselmeyer knew his demon’s plan was proceeding swimmingly indeed.

 

* * *

 

“Yukari is still missing? Are you sure she’s not merely napping somewhere unexpected?”

Under the noonday sun, Yuyuko Saigyouji sat on the Hakurei Shrine’s open porch, her legs under her in perfect seiza form, sipping tea. Her expression was completely untroubled despite what she’d just been told by Ran.

Tails twitching in annoyance, Ran shook her head. “No, she’s definitely missing.”

“Truly? How unlike her.”

Another sip of tea and a gentle sigh.

“It’s such a lovely day. I had hoped to spend some of it with her,” she spoke wistfully while brushing stray hairs back and smiling sadly. “My luck, it seems, has turned poor indeed.”

Sip.

Ran squeezed her eyes tight and rubbed the bridge of her nose in irritation.

“Please take this seriously. Gensokyo is in the middle of a crisis.”

Tilting her head slightly, Yuyuko cast her maroon eyes on Ran, her face a serene mask of indifferent kindness. “I think you,” she pointed in a teasing manner, “are the one who needs to take this seriously. Yukari is not a fool. Even if she’s been taken to another world, that in no way means defeat for her.”

Sip, sigh.

“I’m sure she’ll be gapping back to her mansion any day now, chest unnecessarily puffed out, gloating over whatever random omnipotent being she’s bested.”

Yuyuko chuckled to herself as if she’d made a grand joke and sipped her tea as if nothing at all were unusual about the day. This was how she’d been acting the entire week since her arrival and temporary residency at the Yakumo mansion. Every day, Yuyuko arrived at the Hakurei shrine to inquire if Yukari were there, was told by Ran that she was still missing, and then Yuyuko persisted in nettling her with a display of feigned surprise and cheerful optimism.

Ran realized it was simply Yuyuko’s way of cooping but it was frustrating nonetheless. To Yukari’s shikigami, Yuyuko seemed completely stoically indifferent to the entire situation.

As she tucked a few strands of her short, wavy pink hair back behind her ear, Ran stared in irritation. Her impassivity was too frustrating.

However naturally dignified her deportment or impassive her demeanor, that cultivated persona of the ruling class was far too much for Ran. But beyond that, this woman had squeezed far too many tears from her master, even if unintentionally.

“Perhaps,” Ran offered with closed eyes and bristling nine tails, “those spirits fluttering about your head are like clouds.”

“Hmm?”

“Yes, clouds. I’ve often wondered if spirits and clouds are similar. They say that when a woman has her head in the clouds, she can remain cheerful in even the direst of circumstances.” Ran rubbed her chin. “Though, is it not also said that those whose heads are found in the clouds will often spout witless words?”

Yuyuko chuckled again and set her tea cup on a plate held aloft by one of the ghosts.

“As much as I enjoy your company, shikigami of Yukari, I have finished my tea and will be on my way now.” She stood and gently brushed the dark blue trim of her kimono as if to remove tiny insects. “This is such a lovely day, it would be a shame to catch fleas.”

“Truly. Ah, but they say that one picks up many things from those one has lain with.”

Ran bared her teeth in a false smile.

Yuyuko raised an eyebrow. “Indeed? I have never had such an experience,” she said in a tone reeking of pure innocence, “but I shall seek your _expert_ advice should I need it.”

“My advice is unworthy of your ears-”

Ran’s tails swished to and fro.

“-for I fear my words would be too honest.”

“Oh? I would not think you one to fear honesty,” Yuyuko said with narrow eyes and a sweet tone. “After all, my dearest friend Yukari does indeed speak highly of her pets.”

Ran’s tails flicked from side to side faster and faster. “My master is indeed quite a kind and wonderful person. I do so enjoy her smile and laugh most every day. Though not nearly so much as Miss Reimu seems to.”

Yuyuko’s expression hardened almost imperceptibly. “Really?”

With a pleasant seeming smile, Ran offered one last bit to twist the knife. “As of late, my master seems to spend most every day here. I am sure this is where she will return to when all this is over. The color red _has always_ been _her favorite_.”

Yuyuko put her hands behind her back.

In the evening sunlight, her light blue and white kimono seemed almost black, its spider lily pattern leaping out.

“My, I do believe I’ve partaken of your company for much too long. Do let this shrine’s resident know I stopped by. If that’s not too great a burden, of course.”

Ran nodded and smiled back. “Certainly not. I will speak of your visit with exactly the care it deserves.”

 

* * *

 

“I think I’m going home today Arch.”

Archie Jacobson’s face twisted with irritation. “What was that?” he asked in a cold tone.

“Um,” the other boy looked down at his feet. “I’m kinda tired, you know?”

Archie spun around and laid eyes narrowed to a piercing stare upon the dumpy short kid beside him.

Anyone seeing the two would have felt sorry for the boy. Archie was tall and tanned with rippling muscles barely covered by his black sleeveless **Gundam** T-shirt. His fellow con goer was barely more than half his height and easily double his width. With a big belly, and a sad expression, he looked out of place standing beside Archie.

Archie grabbed the younger boy by the shoulders and shook him violently.

“What the hell? Do you remember how much we were looking forward to this convention, how much we had to beg Dad so we could come by ourselves? Why would you want to leave early, dumbass?!”

Archie ground his teeth and put his hands on his hips. “Seriously, are you turning into one of those-” he pointed at a group of smiling kids chaperoned by an only slightly harried-looking lady wearing cat ears “-losers now? Shut it and get back to it!” He shoved a large bag full of doujinshi and **Gundam** model kits into his little brother’s arms, almost knocking him over. “I’ll tell you when you’re going home, Rick.”

Little brother Rick struggled to add the bag to the half dozen or so he was already burdened with. “Right. Sorry, Arch,” he grumbled, eyes downcast.

“I forgive you for now,” Archie said with a roll of his eyes. Then he grinned. “Okay, there! You go stand in line over there while I grab a drink. That’s your punishment.” Archie pointed at a long line of people queued up for a panel with a Japanese guest.

“But I wanted to go to the-” Archie glared back at his younger brother “-same panel as you,” Rick quickly corrected himself, wincing.

Archie stared for a few seconds longer before walking away, grumbling about being surrounded by losers.

His younger brother bit his lip and got in line for a panel hosted by a man whose name he’d never heard of and couldn’t even pronounce.

 

Far away from the convention, Drosselmeyer sat on a throne of gold, dully clicking his tongue repeatedly. “Oh no, no, and certainly not! A mere bully the main character? Doubtful. So very doubtful.” Tapping at his bearded chin, turning silent for a few moments, he frowned and waved his finger back and forth.

“Wait, hold on. Perhaps I should try looking at him from another perspective.” He grinned wildly and reached up. Seizing his own head firmly, he twisted violently. A horrendous cracking noise filled the room. With his chin now pointed at the ceiling, Drosselmeyer pondered the image of Archie Jacobson floating hazily before him.

He brushed his beard back as it fell over his mouth. He squinted intensely. Looking up from where his lips had been moments before, he pondered the possibilities of this teenager again, trying to conceive of as many potential plot twists as he could.

Thinking as he tapped his chin, gnashing his teeth, he shook his head.

Popping up from his throne, he twirled around in circles. With a flourish, he spun his head like a top until it stopped in its original position.

“No, no! I just cannot contemplate it!” he proclaimed, completely dissatisfied. “A proper tragedy needs a more relatable protagonist. You must find one at once. Even a cat would do!”

Drosselmeyer stroked his beard and frowned. “Oh, but not another duck. Too willful.”

“Chosen.” A strange hissing whisper stopped the old man stiff.

He looked all around but saw nothing and no one. Still, he knew he was never really alone. There were countless shadows in the room. Any one of them could hold a deeper existence than the rest.

There, in a corner, he caught a hint of thicker darkness. A movement; a dark presence.

“Dear me, I seem to have forgotten I’m on commission!” Drosselmeyer said carefully. He bowed his head ever so slightly.

“Please, simply direct me, and this humble writer of stories will set about crafting a delightful tragedy for you!”

Stroking his long beard plaintively, Drosselmeyer looked down and sighed dramatically. “Though I so would prefer another character to work with.” He nodded to himself, glanced at the image of Archie again, and rolled his eyes right out of his head.

Two red pinpricks of light appeared in the blackest corner of the cavernous room.

“Come and see,” hissed the dark guest. “Dominion: Dark Gift.”

Drosselmeyer grinned inhumanly wide and bared every tooth he had.

“Ooh, what sinful delight do you offer me now?” He held out his hands with a child’s glee. His eyes popped back into place and gleamed in wonder.

Despite being quite elderly, and long dead, the old storyteller did so love a good twist. He resembled a boy in a candy store begging for something sweet.

“Come and see.” The voice repeated itself as the wraith-like demon’s thin cloaked form took shape. As it materialized, the heavy clanking of clockwork gears ground to a halt and a deep echoing sound, like an enormous heart beating, steadily began to whisper.

The fluttering rags of its shroud parted. From beneath its red eyes, a small scrap of paper floated out.

Too eager to wait, Drosselmeyer’s hands detached, floated away from him, and grasped the plain brown paper as it were precious spun gold parchment.

When his hands returned, he leaned close to read it carefully, his enormous orange eyes bulging. They grew yet wider and more bulbous with every word. “Wonderful! Oh yes, indeed, this is lovely! I shall start right away!” Drosselmeyer cackled and all but danced over to his writing desk

Furnished with all the tools of his trade, his desk was of infinite value to Drosselmeyer. There was no other place in his dark domain he loved more. He lovingly touched every item he would need for his work.

Inkwells. Quills. Parchment.

Blood.

His own, of course. Only the best would do.

Drosselmeyer cackled with glee as his hands seized feathered quill and sanguine ink.

“All who love stories,” he called out to the void around him, “come, gather round. Let me weave for you a truly miserable tale of woe . . . and fear.”

As he began to write, the distant pulsing noise filled the room. Starting near silence it rose to a deafening monstrous heartbeat. All around, countless clockwork gears groaned back to life. Grinding ever faster, they began to spin, each at a different pace. Under the force of his near-godlike powers, weaving his latest story into the very fabric of many realities, they each turned anew in support. Time flowed into the infinite as the mad novelist wrote.

Golden bells began to clang far over head.

“Dominion: Dark Gift.”

“Oh my,” Drosselmeyer grinned, “I do wonder what that could be about? Has my most esteemed commissioner brought me yet another treat?”

His demon spread its arms wide. A power not unlike his own created something new, something debauched and abyssal, an eldritch mass of glistening meat. “Shape it,” his master hissed anew, gleeful as well. “Flesh.”

“Delightful!” Eyes cast upward, laughing as if to mock the heavens themselves, Drosselmeyer held out his hands and waited patiently for his reward this time.

The twitching mass emerged from the canopy of darkness. Pulsing and forbidden flesh, dripping dark ichor, descended and was drawn toward Drosselmeyer’s hovering severed hands. “I can work with this,” he mused as his demon once more became mere shadow, leaving only the afterimage of twin red specks of light

Then these too vanished from the chamber.

Yet, the demon remained in some fashion and Drosselmeyer was content with the company. As he placed the lump fo foul flesh on his desk, it still pulsating and wetly twitching, he took his quill back up.

He began to write and the flesh was sculpted by his words. Then the words of Drosselmeyer spread out even further. They touched everything and everyone in his reality without a soul knowing. It was all according to his commissioner’s idea but it still delighted the twisted old man’s wicked soul.

As reality itself bent to their shared will, a booming bell peal was heard across countless stories. It echoed like thunder in the ears of many, dark proof of the bond between a dead man and his demon.

 

* * *

 

“Did you hear that?”

Even as Remilia Scarlet asked the question, expressing more concern than the vampire usually dared to in her throne room, Reimu was already staring upward.

“That wasn’t thunder,” Reimu muttered uncertainly. Her eyes narrowed as she stared up and tried to see beyond the ceiling’s limits.

“Humph, I didn’t want you to say that,” Remilia folded her hands in front of her face, covering her mouth with the edges of her fingers. Thinking carefully, she mulled over what she’d heard. Both her guest’s concerning story and the singularly familiar bell sound. After this, what choice did she have?

‘Must be fate,’ she thought ruefully as she reflexively drew back her lips in the sharp grin of a predator.

Remilia set her hand on the armrests of her throne and leaned back to stretch.

“Guess you’ll need me for this fight, huh?”

Startled, Reimu blinked a few times at Remilia before looking away. Silently, Reimu nodded her head, her eyes cast upward. She clenched her fists at her sides. ‘Yukari, be strong.’

The vampire mistress of the Scarlet Devil Mansion clucked her tongue.

“Have a little more faith, Red-White.”

Reimu breathed in deeply then turned to Remilia. “I have plenty.”

Baring her fangs in an adorable smile, Remilia picked up a wineglass filled with red.

“So? Got a plan?” she asked with a smirk as she daintily sipped.

“Not yet,” Reimu shook her head. “I actually have no idea what’s really going on.”

She sighed and weakly smiled. “Though, I suppose that’s nothing new. Usually I can fly off and stumble my way through a few battles then beat the final boss and resolve everything neatly. This time is . . . different.”

“Hehe,” Remilia chuckled softly, “no problem! I’ll solve this mystery for you!”

She grinned and called out “Patchy! The Red-White is asking for a favor! Let’s show her what we can do when we get serious!”

 

* * *

 

Walking along a brick canal, Lucy Heartfilia was smiling and laughing, then she stopped and listened intently. “That sound . . . .” It was faint but it might have been a distant bell.

Silence returned to the night after the sound. After a moment, she shrugged, not sure what she had or hadn’t heard. She sat on the cool edge of the canal, finding it surprisingly comfortable, and breathed in the night air scented with a hint of cheery blossoms. It was getting to be that season but she was surprised to smell them now.

There was something off about it but she dismissed it quickly as her companion on the walk toddled over to her. It made a cute little noise and she grinned.

“I’m okay Plue. Just resting a bit.”

Lucy turned to look back at the canal. The water shimmered under the moonlight.

The wind blew again and this time she caught hints of something else, something musky and acrid. Her nose twitched as she squinched up her face. “Ugh, that smells like burning oil.”

Feeling alarmed but not sure why, she picked up Plue and, arms full of the jiggling little white creature, started walking home again.

“It’s probably nothing to worry about. Ooh, think maybe the guys are waiting for us back home? What do you think Plue?”

Plue made a faint noise that reminded her of a baby burbling.

“You are soooo cute!” Lucy cried out and hugged Plue tight, completely setting aside her worries over the odd sound she hadn’t quite heard or the unexpected smells on the wind.

 

* * *

 

Deep in the darkness of space, in a different reality entirely, a military ship traveled cautiously toward an area known by most as the old Side 4 region. Dubbed the Alexandria, the ship belonged to the Titans, a military force governed less by the will of Earth and more by the whims of its commanders.

It was a ship of prey on the hunt; a predator in a the vast abyss of space. Its mission: hunt the AEUG forces opposing continued Titans’ operations in space. Within, a feisty hound of the Titans’ war machine stewed in bitter thoughts.

“The Titans need new leadership.”

At his words, a fellow mobile suit pilot frowned. “You really want to be saying things like that around here, Messa? Haven’t you been chewed out enough by Jamaican today?”  
  
The man slightly outranked him and had seniority, so Jerid Messa merely turned his blond head and brooded on the subject.

‘If we had better leaders, we’d already have that bastard’s head on a pike. No doubt. I’m sure I could defeat him if they’d just tell me what’s really going on.’

As he had that thought, a tremor ran through the deck beneath him.

“What was _that_?”

Jerid glanced over at the other pilot, who was frowning deeply. “Dunno.”

The tremor had been faint, a subtle sensation not that dissimilar from turbulence in atmospheric flight. Something about it triggered a flash of memory in Jerid’s mind. The words of a woman, seemingly pitying him, defending his failures. ‘Amateurish,’ that one word echoed in his brain, ‘that’s how they made me look.’

Still, as he went back over his chewing out by Jamaican, and Lila’s intervention, Jerid couldn’t find anything wrong with their assessments. He had failed in ways he hadn’t expected.

‘I need to get stronger,’ he thought. For that, he needed to learn from a seasoned pilot.

Jerid stood up abruptly.

Without a word, with purpose in his every step, he headed for _that woman_ ’s room. ‘The Titan’s need new leadership. I have to get stronger now. I don’t have time for pride.’

 

* * *

 

In a darkened corner of the cavernous convention hall, red points of light glimmered, their pinprick stare fixed on Archie Jacobson. Oblivious, the teen bulled his way through the crowd, shoving and snarling at any who dared stand in his way.

The front counter of a vendor lay before him. One person was standing in line.

Or rather, she was sitting in line. She was in a wheelchair, her hair dyed a dark pink, with some sort of bone things stuck on her head like ears.

As he approached, the conversation between the server and the girl floated to Archie’s ears, irritating him.

“Nyu, huh? Never would have pegged you for a fan of _that_ series.”

The girl laughed. “Aw, you just broke my streak. No one guessed correctly all day!”

“Really? Well, maybe if you were wearing the costume from episode one . . . .” The server blushed as he realized just what he’d said. Even as he opened his mouth to apologize, the girl waved it off.

“Per-vert,” the girl drew out the word with a teasing smile. She seemed about to say something more but was cut off as Archie stormed up to them.

“Enough wasting time! You’ve got a _real_ customer now, so stop playing with the cripple bitch and do your job!” Archie’s words were so vicious they momentarily stunned everyone nearby, the two he’d aimed them at most of all.

After less than a second, Archie slammed a fist down on the counter, nearly cracking it. “Hey! Show me some respect! I’m here to order, dammit!”

The server blinked and stared at him. Then, as if waking from a dream, his face went hard and blank. “Yes sir, how may I help you, sir?”

“Gimme a water,” Archie demanded the cheapest item on the menu.

Beside him, the cosplaying girl in the wheelchair ground her teeth and glared at him. Then she turned her head with a click of her tongue and started rolling herself away from the scene. “Wish I had vectors for real,” she growled under her breath.

The server took Archie’s money and handed him his water, all the while watching the girl roll away, wishing he were braver. All around them, other con goers glared at Archie and whispered back and forth. Many of them had already heard about the mecha maniac.

His reputation at the con grew darker. All for a mere drink.

Oblivious, Archie sipped his water as he walked back toward the panel he wanted to attend, feeling nothing but confidence in himself and absolute certainty in his opinions. For him, there could be no dissent.

He was right about the superiority of mecha anime and anyone who liked any other genre was clearly just an idiot. ‘The fandom’s got way too many losers. Freaks and pedos are ruining anime with their moe crap.’

Feeling threatened by the opinions of others, Archie thought ‘if only those shows didn’t exist, then there would be way more superior mecha being made. I wish I could make them all disappear from my world.’

Unknown to him, his thoughts were as a loud as a rock concert to the demon that followed in his wake. Its eyes gleamed, delighted.

“Mine,” it whispered. Blinking out and reappearing in several shadows, stalking his progress. It repeated that word over and over.

Then, as its crimson gaze drew closer, it hissed “come, and see.” It was a summons to battle, a message devoid of regard for others, and proof of its all-consuming obsession.

Archie spun around.

No one was there. Nervously, he rubbed the back of his head, convincing himself by degrees that he’d heard nothing but the wind.

Walking back to his hotel room, he paid no more attention to the creature following behind him, its ragged clothing fluttering like curtains. Unseen, it never strayed, always watching. It saw everything and knew its choice was perfect, eyes of flame drinking in Archie’s every act with fiendish delight.

A faint sound of a bell ringing echoed at the edge of everyone in the world’s hearing.

It was a signal. Preparations were nearly complete.

The game would soon begin.

  
“We stumble and fall constantly even when we are most enlightened. But when we are in true spiritual darkness, we do not even know that we have fallen.”  
-Thomas Merton

 

End of Chapter 2

Next Chapter: Pawn Placement


	3. Pawn Placement

“Others have pointed and I have wandered, aimless, at their direction. I stop in the middle of the road. Yet, were I to have a choice in destination, I could walk very far indeed.”

  
Technically the second day of the convention had begun but few con goers were awake to properly welcome it. A lone teenage girl wearing cat ears, a tail, and a costume consisting of lingerie and little more gave Yukari a bleary-eyed “nyan” as they passed in the hallway.

“Such a costume,” Yukari chuckled to herself, smiling admiringly.

Shortly, her face returned to its prior strained expression.

She’d reached the end of her journey for the day.

Standing outside her hotel room door, Yukari yawned. She hesitated.

‘What to do?’ she wondered, hands on her hips. She felt neither concern nor irritation. At this point, she had moved beyond those feelings and into a profound state of indifferent resignation despite a rebellious urge to avoid the encounter entirely. A great sigh fell from her lips as she considered her options.

First, she could refuse to enter the room.

That choice wasn’t likely to advance her current situation at all; rejected.

Second, she could try to seal the room, and the thing inside it, with Onmyodo methods.

Yukari was quite eager to choose that route but refrained. Until she better understood the demon’s nature, its particular ebb and flow of power, choosing to act so directly would be reckless. Although doing what she wanted to was a privilege she could indulge in back home, it seemed unwise to embrace her nature in this other world.

Glancing down at her bag, she thought ‘and these aren’t ready for battle yet. Having a secret weapon is pointless if it fails to do its job.’

That left the third option: Yukari could open the door, walk inside, and simply endure the humiliation of once again being treated like a servant.

“I must remember to apologize to Ran and Chen when this is all over,” she mused.

Yukari withdrew the plastic key card from her bag. Holding it up carefully, thoughtfully, she drew in a long breath. Slowly, she let it out. Then once more.

Standing straighter, her shoulders back, she swiped the card through the electronic reader under the door handle.

She held her breath.

The light flicked to green, a dull click sounding in her ears.

‘Once again, I long for the color red,’ she thought as she put her hand on the handle. It was a simple straight piece of metal, a lever action design easily used by the able-bodied and the disabled alike. Really, the design was quite complex in its simplicity and she would have preferred to just stand there and admire it. With a resigned sigh, she accepted the reality that she had to do something.

‘Once more into the breech then.’

Yukari opened the door.

Inside her hotel room, on one of two beds, her demonic kidnapper lay watching television. It was propped up by several pillows, remote in hand, comfortably stretched out. It was dressed now in a T-shirt and boxer shorts. The surreal sight gave Yukari pause. ‘What madness is this?’ she wondered.

She dared not linger in the open doorway for long though. However ridiculous it appeared to be at any given moment, it was powerful, of that she was certain.

As she cautiously entered, she noted that it was watching a news report about some human political nonsense. A tanned man was talking assertively and pumping his fist. Feeling whimsical, she thought ‘that man has a very youkai-ish complexion,’ after glancing at the screen. ‘I like him already.’

The demon on the bed said nothing as she entered. The only proof it gave of having noticed her at all was an acknowledging little gesture of its hand. It barely seemed to care that it was graced with her presence. If it noticed the anger in her eyes, it gave no indication.

Intently, it watched the news in silence.

Yukari herself decided not to pay the demon much mind either. She calmly walked over to the other bed and flopped on it. “I’m exhausted,” she mumbled.

‘Let him think me weaker than I am,’ she thought even as she started to drift into sleep.

“Tomorrow, little youkai, we will talk.” The demon’s voice grated on her nerves and sent waves of revulsion down to her toes.

‘I’ll surely not sleep tonight,’ she fumed a second before she started snoring.

Across from her, the demon calmly watched the television, never once looking at her at all. It watched and learned and considered. Finally, it muttered “yes,” to itself after several hours. “These are interesting times indeed. This world is ripe for a shifting of power.” The demon smiled and once more admired its brilliant plan for final victory.

‘My ascent is already assured.’ It glanced to Yukari and nodded to itself. ‘ _It_ will be born here and you shall be its nursemaid, little youkai.’

It silently laughed and for an instant its face rippled and twisted into something inhuman.

 

* * *

 

Elsewhere in the hotel, far from the sumptuous luxury of Yukari’s suite, Archie Jacobson was sleeping soundly. His economy rate bed was almost as plush and comfy as those found in the luxury suits but it lacked the finer craftsmanship and antique appearance. Both Yukari and Archie could attest to how comfortable the foam mattresses felt, how they seemed to mold themselves entirely to the shape of their guests.

Archie slept with a grin on his face.

His brother Rick wasn’t so lucky.

Rick couldn’t sleep. His own bed was hard and cold and it didn’t have any give in it at all. It was, in point of fact, the floor of the hotel room. He’d been told something about the single bed rooms having a cheap rate but he knew the truth. ‘I want to go home,’ Rick prayed, hoping that someone, anyone, would hear his wishes.

Then the room filled with shadows that flowed like water. They shifted and thickened and grew into a roiling fog of darkness overhead. A scent of ink and blood filled the room.

Stunned, Rick stared into the growing abyssal maelstrom.

As if the dark had substance, it formed into a massive canopy. Hanging over all, it swarmed the ceiling and became it. Thick like the smoke from burning rubber, clouds of shadow tossed about, at first seemingly without purpose.

Slowly, they thickened over Archie’s bed.

The darkness swirled and circled there. It reminded Rick of a flock of buzzards.

A thick cloud of shadow hung over his still sleeping brother. He knew his brother was a light sleeper. All it would take was a single shout, or even a loud gasp, and Archie would wake up. He would see the darkness and know it had come for him.

Rick held his breath. He tried to be silent as the grave.

The darkness over Archie began to spin and open. It parted like curtains and something thin and skeletal emerged. Rick almost screamed at what he beheld.

Only by clamping his hands over his mouth did he keep from waking his brother.

It noticed him anyway. It turned its head and two piercing pinpricks of red bore into Rick’s soul.

He stiffened and held still. His heart pounded as his chest ached with burning lungs.

The creature before him raised a hand and put a single finger against the void where a mouth would have been. As it turned toward Archie, Rick felt his fear leaving him. In its place, profound relief.

Shadows descended and enveloped Archie. He woke in an instant, opened his mouth to shout, then vanished. In the blink of an eye, he was gone, bed and all. The darkness took him and left nothing behind as it rose back toward the ceiling.

Red eyes returning to Rick, the creature rasped out “mine” before ascending back into the cloud of darkness as well.

Then the darkness evaporated and the hotel room was emptier than it had been before.

Rick stared at the spot where a bed and his brother had once been. He looked up at the ceiling where the shadows had departed. Then, softly, he pressed his hands together and whispered “thank you,” reverently and honestly.

 

* * *

 

As the last traces of darkness faded from the sky, clouds gave way to early morning, and light streamed in from the window. It draped over Yukari like a comfy quilt. Snoring gentle, soft snores, she slept peacefully and happily.

The sound of a girl’s voice. A smiling face. The colors red and white dancing. Gentle laughter. Her dreaming mind was filled with all her favorite things.

Yukari’s eyes were wet as she smiled.

She was there. The familiar shrine. A sweet voice calling out and she turned. Reimu held out a sake glass but she didn’t take it. Instead, she sent her fingers running through dark hair. Soft, gentle. Yukari leaned in and sniffed the scent of a maiden. She smiled, laughed, and enjoyed. Touching. Holding. Yukari dreamed memories of red. Each precious moment recreated so vividly that it might have been a vision rather than a dream.

Reimu whispered into her ear ‘I’ll save you,’ and Yukari was at peace.

Not for long.

“Wake up, little youkai,” a cold voice ripped into her most pleasant dream. Reimu evaporated and the shrine fell away. Darkness claimed all as golden eyes gleamed upon her from the surrounding abyss.

Drowsily, Yukari sat up in the bed and yawned broadly, curling her tongue like a cat as she did. Stretching her arms high over head, she groaned softly. Then another huge yawn.

She fell back to the soft bed. “G’night,” she said.

She’d made it three-quarters of the way back to her dreamland rendevous when a hand grasped the back of her dress and heaved her up.

Her eyes snapped open and her fist moved before she had her bearings. Just before it connected with the demon’s face, a rift in reality opened up and swallowed her punch whole. In an instant, Yukari leapt backwards, every instinct within her screaming warnings even as she barely avoided falling over the bed.

The reality hole closed just as her final finger tip pulled back.

It sealed and was no more.

Had her hand still been inside, she would have lost it.

“Bastard,” she snarled at the demon.

“Bitch,” it returned, a warped grin on its face. “If you’re awake, we can get started.”

“Started with wha-AAAHHH!”

The demon struck before she even thought to dodge. Its hand slid into the warmth of her cleavage, then deeper, penetrating her flesh. Yukari’s eyes clenched shut as she felt not pain but a bizarre sensation of her insides moving to accommodate the invasion.

A horrifically strange feeling seized her. Uncomprehending, stunned, she looked down at her chest in wide-eyed horror.

Its hand was invading her body.

Her skin was perfectly intact. There wasn’t a single tear from its strike. Rather, her flesh flowed away from its skin like impact ripples on a pond from a rock dropping in. Inside of her body, she felt her organs, blood vessels, nerves, and bones doing the same. Every nerve twitched with alien sensations so fundamentally at odds with normal experiences of the flesh that Yukari could not help but tremble.

For the first time in many centuries, true terror gripped her heart. Her short scream faded into a gurgling gasp as her insides were shoved aside. The demon’s hand plunged ever deeper.

In the midst of her fear, she felt something else, something at her very core. Not pain, nothing so easy to endure. Rather, it was as if a deeply fundamental aspect of herself was being probed by the demon’s fingers. Not her soul but equally important and precious to who and what she was.

As a youkai, and as a woman, she felt violated.

Her body jerked and spasmed involuntarily.

She could not speak for her body was no longer listening to her mind. The sensations of pain absent until that moment now exploded. Ever nerve in her body screamed as if being electrified by piercing needles.

Yukari couldn’t bear it but she wasn’t given a choice. She couldn’t even pass out.

Time itself became warped by the pain and wrongness of what the demon was doing to her body. Seconds stretched into infinity for her. Past and future merged with the present into a single absolute moment of purest unpleasantness.

After an interminable length of time, the demon grinned. “Here we go,” it said and yanked back its hand so fast and hard that Yukari’s body was pulled along as well.

Yukari collapsed to her knees, wheezing violently.

Her stomach roiled with nausea.

She slapped both hands over her mouth, trying to hold down whatever was in her stomach, desperately wanting to avoid such a disgusting display. If even a shred of noble youkai dignity remained to her, then she wanted to keep it.

“How pathetic,” the demon sneered.

Yukari couldn’t respond. Her body wasn’t listening to her at all. Arms limp, legs weak, chest filled with pain, everything else too numb to think about, she almost passed out.

Sheer willpower kept her conscious but her body’s disorderliness forced her to remain still on the floor. She needed some time to recover.

‘Damn that beast,’ Yukari fumed in silence.

After an interminable length of time passed, she finally noticed that the demon had already vanished.

How long was she alone and vulnerable? Yukari didn’t know and could hardly think coherently enough to want to know. The blinking numbers on a nearby clock changed dozens of times but Yukari remained on the floor, unmoving, as if frozen.

The early morning became early afternoon. Still wheezing even after so long, her chest aching, Yukari finally managed to climb up onto her bed. She collapsed into it shivering, hugging her legs to her chest, her silent screams merely melting into the darkness.

 

“My, it did take a while for him to calm down, didn’t it?” Drosselmeyer leaned closer and stared into a glass box. Inside, a tiny human was curled into a ball at one corner. “He still seems a bit upset though,” the old man said, poking at the glass.

Behind him, a voice whispered, “catalyst.”

“Oh? Is it time?” Drosselmeyer blinked his bulging orange eyes and glanced at an hourglass on his desk. “Dear me, it is! Ah, I suppose you need some of my blood now, yes?”

“Blood. Catalyst.” The red-eyed wraith patiently nodded at him.

Drosselmeyer brought his wrist to his face and sliced deeply into his own flesh with a conveniently handy letter-opener. The skin parted easily and as his blood began to flow, he brought a clean inkwell under the slash.

It didn’t take long to fill. His wound then healed on its own, without much pain or irritation, leaving not a hint of scarring behind.

“Will this be enough?” he asked as he handed his blood over to the demon.

It took the glass bottle silently.

As he handed it over, someone appeared. In one instant, a corner of the room was empty, in the next, it wasn’t.

Yukari’s demon, once more wearing a fine suit, smirked at Drosselmeyer. It dismissed him with a scornful snort. The demon found him an underwhelming daemon. Turning away, it glared at its eternal opponent. “Are you ready?” it asked in a huff, eyes narrowed and fixed on the wraith.

The other demon nodded once.

“Good. I’ve brought my catalyst.” Stretching out the hand it had dug into Yukari, its fist still closed tightly, it paused to laugh. “Ah, I do believe this victory will be my finest!” Then it turned up its fist and opened its fingers.

A single slit sliver, like a fluttering rip in space, rose from its hand. It was an opening between places that defied natural law.

A gap. Not long ago it had been one of Yukari’s gaps.

Now, its formerly red ribbons were stained black, and it twisted and writhed as if driven insane. No trace remained of the whimsical youkai’s aura. Only the demon’s own shadow remained cast over it.

The wraith-like demon held up an inkwell filled with blood.

“Let it begin,” both intoned as another peal of not-thunder rang out faintly across realities. In unison, they began to chant in a language older than time itself.

Drosselmeyer’s blood began to flow out from the inkwell. It swirled about the now undulating black gap. A faint greenish light began to glimmer in the depths of both as they were drawn together.

Then two became one.

The blood and gap melded into a now red-black stained gap that glistened like a fresh clot. It became sluggish, still, then suddenly it would shake and tremble as if terrified. The gap bulged and grew as the green light within became brighter. A deep whine filled the air as if someone were distantly screaming.

Then one became two.

The mutated gap divided like a cell, splitting into two perfectly equal twins. Each born from Yukari’s ability, each tainted by Drosselmeyer’s blood-borne power to shape reality. One floated toward the wraith, now bound to its will, while other stayed with the suited demon.

Grunting in satisfaction, Yukari’s demon smirked. “Yes, I think these will do nicely. Copy it with your Dominion. We might need spares like in our last game.” With a mocking chuckle, it looked to its opponent.

“And set your starting point soon! I’d like to get this phase of the game underway sooner than last time. I grow weary of the little youkai’s company,” it sighed dramatically.

Clenching its hand, it vanished from the room, taking a mutant gap with it. Into the dark silence that followed, Drosselmeyer began to chuckle faintly as he amused himself by tapping on the glass box again and again.

After a while, the other demon turned to him. “Release,” it ordered.

Nodding, the writer opened the glass box. With a whoosh of air, Archie appeared, full-size, huddled on the floor. His eyes darted from the demon to Drosselmeyer and back again. “What the hell is this?” he asked, voice squeaking with fear. “I don’t know who you people are or how you did that, but I’m going to call the cops!”

Chortling dryly, its mirth mutilated by its maliciousness, the demon held its mutant gap out toward Archie.

He stared up in terror as bulging orange eyes leered down at his ashen face.

“We have _much_ to discuss,” Drosselmeyer said with a grin.

 

An hour passed for her.

Alone.

Afraid.

In pain.

Yukari’s eyes were dry now. She’d begun to feel like herself again. Moment by moment, she cast off the remaining veils of suffering clouding her thoughts and vision. In her growing clarity, she plotted and prepared.

Grinding her teeth, her fists clenched so tightly that blood seeped from between her fingers, she thought of nothing but how to strike back at her tormentor.

She wanted to kill it.

No, more than that, she wanted to rip it apart with her bare hands. To bite and chew then swallow it down to nothingness.

Yukari had thought this savage hunger no more than a distant memory.

She knew better now.

No matter their age, a youkai is still a youkai after all. That realization only enraged her further. It was but the latest in the series of wounds inflicted upon her by the demon, though this injury could not surpass what it had done before.

No other violation could equal its theft; it had taken from her too precious a piece.

Screams of frustration threatened to spill out of her at any moment.

Yet, she could not act. Not yet.

There were still too many variables to consider. Taking action, any action, without carefully determining the possible outcomes was suicidal in the face of a true threat. Yukari understood the basics of her situation far too well at this point but she could only lightly stroke the grand scheme’s most obvious contours.

Without her ability, and all alone, there were things she could do but far too many things she could not. Though she had a pocket full of the fruits of her secret labors, she could not depend on them alone.

“Someone . . . help me,” she whispered desperately.

 

* * *

 

“There’s nothing I can do at this time.”

Standing with open book in hand, Patchouli Knowledge spoke softly in a straightforward, indifferent tone. Regardless, her words sent Reimu reeling.

Face pale, she lost her strength entirely and collapsed. Halfway to the floor, Reimu reached out, her fingertips catching the sharp edge of a shelf. Gripping it tightly, she slowly, almost painfully, pulled herself back to a crouched stance. For a few seconds, her eyes were dull and blank.

Then her expression turned dark.

Even as she braced herself against the shelf, she rounded not on the woman who’d spoken but on the mistress of the Scarlet Devil Mansion. The intensity of her eyes brought a drop of sweat to Remilia’s brow.

Uneasily raising her hands with palms and fingers spread, Remilia tried to placate Reimu’s irritation. “Hold it, calm down. Patchy said ‘at this time’ so there’s still hope.”

Diminutive as the lady vampire was, her soothing voice carried weight with Reimu, and the shrine maiden found herself obeying. Tension washed out from her as her body grew limp. Sinking to the floor, she put her hand to her forehead and sighed.

“I’m worn out. I had high hopes when I came here.”

Remilia quickly knelt and patted Reimu’s head. ‘Mama used to do this for us. It really works too. Fly away, unhappies!’ she thought as a nostalgically gentle smile formed on her face.

“Hey, you know what? It’s okay. It’s all going to work out.” Remilia turned her red eyes on the cause of the trouble, frowning a bit. “Ain’t that right, Patchy?”

Patchouli frowned back and raised an eyebrow.

“I’ve only been able to isolate the most basic aspects of the magic involved. At this point, anything I say is pure speculation, Remi.”

Remilia clicked her tongue and wagged a finger. “Tsk tsk tsk. Speak words I want to hear! Things like ‘I’ll have it figured out by nightfall’ or something.”

Patchouli slowly blinked her big purple eyes and yawned. “Really, Remi, is all of this even necessary? As eager as I am to study this new magic, must we act so _frantic_ about it?”

Under her small hand, Remilia felt a flaring heat, and she quickly tried to intervene. She rose to her full height and almost struck her favorite pose before thinking better of it.

“Uh, Patchy, if you talk like that, I think Ms. Red-White will hurt you a little.”

Glancing back over her shoulder, Remilia noted the blazing glare of anger in Reimu’s eyes. “Hmm, scratch that, she’ll hurt you _a lot_.”

Patchouli yawned again and scratched her head, almost knocking her night-cap off in the process. Her purple hair was a mess, she had a new coffee stain on her pink pajama-like dress, and her stripes seemed more pronounced than ever. She stretched and shook her head, mouth open in one of the few universally recognized signs of exhaustion.

“If she wants to hurt me, then she can, but I can’t simply make books with the answer in them appear out of thin air. My collection is vast,” she waved off the start of a protest, “but it is far from infinite and I can honestly say that not one book here will solve the problem.”

She gave them a moment to let her words sink in before explaining.

“To begin, the magic involved comes from a completely separate reality from our own; I have no clear frame of reference for understanding it. To end, even if I were to go and fetch all the books the Black-White rat has taken, even if I could read every book in Gensokyo by tomorrow, I would still not have an answer to this problem.” Patchouli took a breath and finished, adding, “this is an outside context problem of the highest order.”

Remilia’s head drooped and curls of short light-blue flopped over her eyes.

“Ugh, way to kill the room, Patchy.”

Behind her, Reimu sighed. “No, it was like snatching a bandage off. Best to make it quick than draw out the pain.”

Remilia stood up straighter and grimaced. “Yeah, suppose so. Still hurts though. Gensokyo would get kinda boring without her so I wanna get her back too.”

“Fondness for our lady of gaps will not speed up the process of rescuing her. In fact, it hinders it greatly.” Patchouli shook her head as if bewildered that she had to explain as much to her friend. “Remi, I would like to go over things once more.”

“Eh?”

“Dispassionately this time.”

“Ah.”

Remilia turned to Reimu. “That okay with you?”

A nod.

“Good, then lets go over it again. Patchy needs us to be like Sakuya about this. Cold and heartless and moody and kinda boring sometimes and . . . and she’s standing right behind me, right?”

Remilia grimaced as she turned to find a tall woman with long braids of silver hair on both sides of her face. Green bows tidied the ends while her head was adorned with a pure white maid headband. She towered over Remilia and stared down with steely eyes.

“A hah . . . I was kidding.”

Sakuya Izayoi said nothing as she impassively held out a platter with a single wine glass.

Remilia took it without a word and sipped. Her eyes popped open and she made a little noise of surprise in the back of her throat. She drank deeply then, gulping down the whole glass, and set it back on the platter with an “ah!” of satisfaction.

“That was yummy!” Remilia beamed as she licked her lips clean. “Who’d it come from? Can they give some more? Can they? Huh?”

Sakuya nodded gently, smirking. “As much as you’d like, Mistress.”

Remilia laughed and waved her hand dismissively. “No way, that’d kill ‘em!”

“AHEM!”

Twitching involuntarily, Remilia turned back and met Reimu’s stern gaze.

“Ah, right, getting serious,” she coughed and cleared her throat. “Right, so Sakuya, would you mind sticking around? I was kinda kidding but I kinda wasn’t too. You’re good at not getting hung up on emotional stuff. You’re really strong that way.” As she spoke, Remilia hopped onto a nearby table, barely avoiding knocking over a potted plant.

She patted a spot beside her with a grin.

Raising an eyebrow, Sakuya gave an almost imperceptible shake of her head. She stood straighter with the platter in hand, the empty wineglass balanced on it at the center, and remained standing by.

Although she was slightly disappointed, Remilia supposed that was Sakuya’s idea of being at rest. ‘Ever the perfect maidservant,’ she thought pitifully.

With everyone quiet, Patchouli waved her hand.

A lesser devil dashed out from the stacks of books carrying a beanbag chair. She set it down for her master then, with a bow, zipped back into the bowels of the library.

Settling in comfortably, Pachouli yawned contentedly.

“Let us go over things once more.”

Remilia glanced over at Sakuya, noted that she was stoically attentive, then started kicking her feet like a bored little girl.

Still leaning on one of the enormous bookshelves, Reimu started speaking. “It’s been nearly two weeks since Yukari was taken. Here’s what we know so far . . . .”

 

* * *

 

“Haven’t you whimpered long enough, little youkai?”

Yukari clenched her jaw tight and bit her tongue. The demon’s voice filled her with rage but she could not let either it or her dark emotion rule her.

Sweetly, she replied “forgive me, you caught be my surprise before.” Rising from the bed, Yukari faced her cruel captor with harsh eyes.

It smirked and pressed her bag into her hands.

“Go. Choose my pawn. At once.”

With a wave of its hand Yukari felt reality shift, her body reacting with nausea, and instantly she was outside the hotel. Facing the open streets beyond the walls of the convention center itself, she stared at long lines of people walking toward where she had been a mere instant before. Shaking her head, she tried to keep her balance.

After a few moments, she felt steady enough. Her heart was pounding fiercely. The very fabric of her being screamed for blood.

She longed for red.

Squeezing her eyes shut, Yukari massaged the bridge of her nose and tried to calm herself. The maddening hatred was slowly consuming what sanity she had left. ‘No battle is won by base emotion,’ she thought, trying to force herself back to calmness.

It wasn’t enough to desire vengeance. Desire meant emotion, emotion shrouded judgement in fog, and that fog led to death.

Yukari was well-versed in the intricacies of manipulation. Having long lost count of her birthdays, she’d had ample time to learn how best to tie others with her strings and make them dance to her desires. Still, she could not believe that this _thing_ would simply allow her to collar it and turn it into her obedient fool.

Carefully chosen words and intricate plans meant nothing in the face of the demon’s current overwhelming advantages.

Trickery could not achieve her goal. She needed another way to kill it.

‘If I had even one ally,’ she thought.

Yukari blinked. She suddenly burst into a fit of almost childish laughter. Some con goers walking by gave her odd looks before quickly walking away. She ignored them all.

Or, rather, she paid _every single one_ attention but dismissed them in turn.

Her keen eyes had grown sharp. Mind nimbly racing, she hatched plots and plans, tested them against what she thought were the likeliest outcomes, then discarded and drew anew. Furiously playing out scenarios in her head, she began taking her role as a daemon seriously.

‘If it wants a pawn, perhaps it is time I found one.’

Yukari smiled as she joined the crowd of con goers to search for her salvation.

 

After the explanation of things, Drosselmeyer leered at Archie. “So, having heard all of that, what do you say? Are you interested in the power? Do you want to reap rewards or return to your dull little life?”

Trembling with anticipation, the teenager grinned back, and turned to face the wraith. His eyes were wild with a mix of fear and desperation. “You serious?” he asked hoarsely. “If I do what you want, if I become your pawn, you’ll really give me what I asked for?”

He looked to Drosselmeyer and then back to the demon. “Seriously?”

Skeletal, cloaked in a frayed and ragged cloth, it looked more like a vagabond beggar than an almighty demonic power. Still, having personally experienced several of its abilities, Archie was convinced that it could do what the old man claimed it could.

He just wanted to hear it from the source.

No, he _needed_ to hear it.

“Yes,” the demon hissed gleefully and it raised a hand. Spindly fingers unfurled and a squirming twitching thing appeared.

It looked like nothing Archie had ever seen before.

It wasn’t very long, perhaps a foot in length from tip to tip, but it had incredible depth. When Archie peered into it, he could see things that surely couldn’t be real. Blood red eyes gazed back at him, bits of debris like sign posts floated by, and he thought he could even see a landmass in the distance. It was as if a tiny hole had been rent in the fabric of reality.

Each end of the tear was tied off with a black ribbon. The whole thing writhed and twisted as if suffering. It glistened red like raw meat. As he watched it, Archie’s heart beat faster and faster. A feeling of emptiness gnawed at him suddenly and the gap became the most enticing thing he’d ever seen.

He slowly began to reach out.

Then the demon clenched its fist closed.

It exhaled long, hissing breaths.

Archie shook his head as if he were waking from a deep sleep. ‘Wait, what happened to me just now? What was I about to do?’ His thoughts were slightly disjointed. He tried to think about what he’d been doing just a moment before.

“Oh no, no, no,” Drosselmeyer abruptly wagged a finger in front of Archie’s face, his hand having floated over by itself.

Startled, Archie jerked back. His instant of confusion was forgotten.

“Just how much longer do I have to wait?” he asked as he turned back to face Drosselmeyer. “I’m down for this, old man.”

Drosselmeyer’s orange eyes bulged wider. “You must say the ‘magic words’ first. After all, this magic comes at a price of service! If you don’t properly fulfill the contract’s terms . . . . Well, that’s hardly any of my concern! On to the next prospect!” He shrugged as if Archie’s decision meant nothing at all.

That angered the teen and he reacted exactly as Drosselmeyer intended.

“No way! I want it all! Everything it promised!” Archie spun around and threw his arms open. “You chose me! You get it! You understand! I DESERVE THIS!!”

Under his breath, Drosselmeyer chuckled. “You certainly do.”

Archie was too busy screaming to notice that. Nor did he notice the demon’s shivering, as if it were holding back laughter. He didn’t even notice the numerous little loopholes in what he’d been told. Accepting everything at face value, believing that he was about to get his heart’s desires because he deserved them, Archie questioned nothing.

“I’m the one who deserves this, no one else, just me!” he emphasized.

“Just say the words my commissioner needs you to say,” Drosselmeyer prompted, already feeling more than a little bored with this brat.

Nodding, Archie grinned and pumped his fist in the air.

“Alright! Just this once though,” he said, taking a deep breath. “Abyssal One, I make this vow in fulfillment of the ancient covenant, and upon my soul I call unto thee. Let my flesh be the essence. Let blood be our contract’s foundation. My soul is a gate that writes the world.”

All around him, the air began to move. A sound like the distant beat of drums steadily rose with each word. Like memories long kept close to his heart, Archie spoke each word perfectly, though he’d only heard them once but a moment ago.

“I pay my tribute to Abyss, I swear as one who walks your path, let my vow become one with the creation. Let it rise like a wall to ensnare, let it cast a shadow in all directions to reign, let it forge the path of my own dominion.”

Drosselmeyer began to laugh, his eyes bulging in anticipation.

“My flesh shall serve you, my fate shall be yours, I submit to you and beckon forth the wages of my sacrifice. Answer! Grant me all the powers my oath shall obtain!”

The demon lowered its head and spread its arms wide. Plumes of blackest shadow flowed out from its palms. They flowed to Archie and surrounded him in a swirling maelstrom. An inky sigil appeared on his forehead then vanished.

“I swear, grant me dominion over my own soul, I shall attain the four souls. I shall attain the sacred land. I shall return and make thine own wish manifest! For I hereby enter into a contract with you, oh truest demon of Abyss, and deny all the glories of the creation!”

Archie felt the power as it entered his body. It was a cold, oily sensation.

“If I fall, let my shadow continue on, and be all myself together.”

With the final line, the contract was complete, and Drosselmeyer cackled incessantly. The demon shook with harsh gasps that might have been the driest of laughter as well.

Archie stared at them in turn. “What the hell is so funny? Did I say it wrong?”

 

It wasn’t easy for Yukari to walk among the humans at the anime convention.

Outside of the camouflaged field, she stood out like a tall tree in an otherwise flat and desolate field. Her beauty, her clothes, even the way she moved seemed to attract attention. She was constantly fending off requests for photos.

A voice called out to her yet again. “Hey, can I get a picture, Ms. Yakumo?”

Sighing, Yukari paused at the request and turned to face the speaker. ‘It is flattering yet vexing,’ she thought in irritation. She posed, smiled, blinked after the flash, and began to walk away. It was the fifth time in not so many more minutes that she’d repeated these same actions.

Yukari decided to try something bold.

Although she’d acquired potential weapons to use against the demon, she’d yet to test them, but this seemed a perfect opportunity. Slipping a hand into her dress’s hidden pocket, she drew a small package.

To the con goers, it was a novelty item. To Yukari, it was a much needed bit of good fortune. While wandering the con before, she’d happened to overhear a conversation about a ‘mecha maniac’ who’d terrorized a dealer. Curious, she’d gone to see the victim and stumbled across a potential arsenal of weapons.

The dealer had been selling do-it-yourself paper talisman kits.

‘A fortunate encounter indeed,’ she thought, ‘but not one to bear fruit so soon.’

She had turned most of the talismans into proper and powerful ofuda charms. She’d kept a few blank for testing purposes or incidental needs. They weren’t ideal but Yukari felt better just having them.

After finding a quiet place to work, she set a blank slip on the table, and removed one of the do-it-yourself talisman kits she’d bought before. Using the ink and brushes, she quickly made a proper ofuda from the blank. Inscribing a simple series of characters for [INVISIBLE], Yukari tucked the talisman into her bag and proceeded to walk around the con. It didn’t take long for her experiment to bear fruit.

There was a very good reason why Yukari stood out before.

Wearing an elegant purple dress with lavender accents and white lace frills, she was slender, tall, and exuded a tranquil sensuality. No woman could wear a dress like her’s and not be brimming with confidence either. It was part corset, accentuating her naturally ample cleavage and sliming her figure, but also chaste in its long length that came almost to her ankles. The inner layer was sensual silk but most of the dress was exquisitely woven cotton. Around her neck was a white lace choker and ribbon.

Resting atop her head like a crown was a fluffy white mob cap with an enormous red ribbon at the front. Fitting for a woman surrounded by an aura of regality.

With her convention bag on one shoulder, she held in one hand an ornately embroidered purple folding fan made of fine silk. Embroidered flower designs were incorporated into its motif. A seemingly delicate white and red parasol dangled from her other arm, the curved handle end around her wrist. However, she held each with a certain flair that imparted an edge of danger to them.

Eye-catching waist-length blonde tresses, bound together at the ends with red ribbons in half a dozen places, almost seemed to flutter around her. Her hair’s aureate glow alone should have caught attention from almost every man in the convention hall. Every strand was like purest spun gold.

Thanks to the power of her ofuda, few now noticed her at all. Neither her clothes nor her hair kept their eye and none were ensnared by her body.

Tall and voluptuous, she should have gotten considerable notice in any convention hall at all times, just as she had the day before and mere moments ago as well. Yukari had been catching everyone’s eye simply by _being_.

Now, none of her features registered with the spiritually inept. Even the more spiritually sensitive could not keep their attention on her for long. A strange compulsion guaranteed every individual that could notice her would soon forget her existence. A need to look away and not remember her drove everyone who saw her to believe they actually saw nothing. Most were inclined to perceive her as completely invisible but a spare few glimpsed her boundaries; for those spiritually perceptive few, she appeared as clear shaped-glass.

In one act, she had earned a reprieve from the constant requests for photos and crafted a test to aid her in identifying the perfect ally. ‘So I _can_ use onmyodo,’ Yukari thought in relief, smiling a scheming smile. ‘That demon has underestimated me.’

Then someone set a hand on her shoulder. A rush of disappointment mixed with dread filled Yukari as she turned around.

Surprised, she smiled. “Alice! I hadn’t expected to run into you again.”

No longer dressed as Reimu, her actual hair a pale blonde color like early morning sunlight, she put her hands on her hips. Alice grinned at Yukari. “I’m leaving in a few but I’d hoped to run into you one last time. I just can’t get over how amazing your costume is! Did you make it yourself or what?”

Yukari shook her head. “Ah, well, that’s a secret.”

Alice frowned.

“Oh?” She narrowed her eyes slightly. “Listen, I know a lot of people wish their lives were like anime or video games, but real life is much more interesting. I said it before, you have to keep yourself grounded or everyone will think you’re some crazy cat lady.”

‘Well, I do have Chen,’ Yukari thought, an amused smile forming on her face.

Out loud, she said “ah, I’m sure you’re right. My LARPing, as you put it, is merely something for the convention.”

Her words earned a relieved sigh from Alice. “Oh good! I was really worried you were one of _those_ people. I’m glad you’re like me instead. I get it, you know? Cosplay isn’t just about showing off our design skills, it’s performance art.”

Yukari nodded, though she wasn’t particularly inclined to agree with Alice’s somewhat judgmental thinking. Still, having company helped ease her own troubled mind. She found herself grateful for the mild distraction the girl provided. ‘Walking around with Alice might be a pleasant enough diversion,’ she thought casually.

Together, they walked with the huge crowd of con goers. They were bumped repeatedly, Yukari even more than Alice, as they approached the convention center once again. Alice grumbled to Yukari “everything’s crazy since it’s almost over. Total chaos! Worst con day is today.”

She smiled at Yukari, fortunately not seeking any response.

Although Yukari did nod and give a little “indeed” of agreement, she would have been hard-pressed later to summarize the conversation that should have been taking place.

Not really intending to, Yukari had tuned Alice out completely, and now she was lost again in dangerous thoughts and bloody predications of the battle to come.

‘I’ll have to keep my guard up,’ Yukari thought, ‘and I must strengthen as many ofuda as I can as quickly as possible.’

‘My talisman works but weakly so. I lack the power to overcome the spiritual bond naturally formed between acquaintances. How can I strengthen my onmyodo in this world?’

Yukari was busy plotting her next move.

Her mind raced with countless ideas, tearing some down and building others up, yet she still managed to act semi-engaged when Alice spoke to her. Splitting her attention left her paying less and less attention to her surroundings.

So much so that she never noticed a pair of blood red eyes watching from the shadows.

 

“A crest of blood?” Archie frowned, finding the unfamiliar term unpleasantly disturbing.

Drosselmeyer chuckled. In a sweeping gesture, he directed the chosen teen to watch one of the mirrors.

The jagged glass reflected a view of the greater outside world. It showed hundreds, perhaps even thousands, of con goers. Each was different and unique, every one a living person with their own hopes and dreams. It went without saying that not a one of them knew of the rituals and dark secrets that would decide their fates.

An image of two blonde **Touhou** cosplayers walking together caught Archie’s attention.

“Carving a crest of blood, it’s really quite a simple thing,” Drosselmeyer said quietly. “Why, all you have to do-”

He grinned insanely and was suddenly directly in front of Archie, glaring down at him.

“-is spill some of theirs.”

 

* * *

 

“And that is all we know,” Reimu finished summarizing everything she, Ran, Remilia, and Patchouli had managed to piece together about the latest mysterious incident.

“Somehow, when you tell a story, I feel like you’re leaving out the good parts,” Remilia commented with a sigh. “Mine are way better.”

Reimu frowned but waved off her criticism.

“You did miss something,” Sakuya said.

“Eh? Really?” Remilia hopped off the table and put her hands on her hips. “So, I was right?” Suddenly, she puffed out of her meager chest. “Ah! I mean, of course I’m right!”

Remilia paused as everyone looked to her.

“Um,” she sheepishly turned to her head maid.

Sakuya smiled softly. “My lady, it is really quite obvious.”

“. . . ?”

“The familiar bond,” Sakuya said.

Clapping her hands together, Patchouli’s eyes went wide and she made a little “ah!” of realization.

Reimu and Remilia glanced at each other and shrugged.

“Of course, I should have realized it sooner myself!” Patchouli laughed at herself.

“I swear, if someone doesn’t start explaining, I’m going to exterminate the lot of you.”

Patchouli wagged her hand placatingly and said “now calm down Red-White. We’ve just recognized the key to rescuing Yukari.”

 

* * *

 

After returning to the convention center, Yukari made her excuses to Alice and started hunting for something useful. Not content to merely dwell in her own thoughts, she craved the outsider’s perspective. So far, she’d survived by learning as much as she could, from whatever sources she could find, and by experimenting. Her efforts had yielded results but they were limited and based entirely on her own viewpoint.

Thus far, she’d approached matters from the perspective that only tools and methods brought from her own reality could serve her in battle. However, her world’s onmyodo could be interfered with by mere acquaintance bonds of this world, thus Yukari had an epiphany.

Continuing to learn about this ‘true reality’ was no longer merely beneficial. It was now an absolute essential.

She needed to flip her perspective to that of a ‘real’ person.

Wanting to learn more about how her Gensokyo was viewed, she chose to learn from the sources readily available to her. She embraced the con way of life!

“I’d like to purchase any manga or doujinshi you have that involve **Touhou** , please.”

The older male dealer gave Yukari an odd look. With a hint of bemused guilt in his voice, he questioned her request. “Um . . . any? As in, ah, all of them?”

She smiled beatifically and nodded. “Yes, Jerry. Oh, and thank you for yesterday’s brilliant items. They were perfect for my needs.”

Jerry scratched his head. “Hmm. Well, you’re welcome. Let me think a bit. I don’t carry much manga or doujinshi but I think I’ve got a few . . . um, you do know a lot of doujinshi is porn right?”

‘Not until you said so,’ Yukari thought as she nodded, still smiling.

“Okay then, I’ve got a few yuri works and some general hentai.” Jerry sifted through boxes and pulled out several thin volumes with glossy covers for Yukari to consider.

A few had covers luridly carnal enough that she couldn’t help but gape at them.

“Ma’am, you sure you want these?”

Clearing her throat, Yukari nodded. Handing over a wad of currency, she took a bag full, then dashed off without waiting for her change. She fled to the same quiet corner as the day before. There, Yukari examined her purchases carefully one by one.

They _were_ mostly pornographic. Apparently, people in this reality ‘enjoyed’ such things. Yukari couldn’t really blame them for that. Seeing drawings of herself engaging in wanton debauchery with faceless men was not, however, going to help her understand anything of use.

Then Yukari started reading a volume that wasn’t filthy at all. Rather, it was terrifying in its almost perfect accuracy. It sent her pulse racing.

It was called **Touhou Tonari**.

As she read it, Yukari felt countless emotions, pain she’d thought she’d long set aside mixed with present confusion and shock.

Then, page by page, cover to cover, she realized the lies nestled within the demon’s truth.

 

Some time later, Yukari was walking outside once again. It was getting late in the day but the sun was still blazing down.

All Anime Allure Con had one tomorrow left. The people outside were all late arrivals.

She sensed that this was her last chance to find an ally. If she failed to obey the demon, failed to choose a pawn, Yukari had no doubts that it would make her suffer. Worse, she’d lack the advantage she so desperately needed. ‘How I do wish I could trade places with that writer,’ she thought with a sigh.

‘Still, if I can find the right person, retaliation will be possible.’

Yukari had finally figured it out.

It had taken her a bit but she’d pieced together the fundamental principles upon which this reality likely impacted her own. Taking them as a given, considering her experiences thus far, she could arrive at conclusions both logical and accurate. Extrapolating from the variables produced the expected sums and hypothetical scenarios could now be tested with a high degree of probable accuracy.

Simply put, Yukari understood enough to be dangerous again.

‘Now, I merely need an ally,’ she thought as she strolled among the humans.

‘If I can share my feelings with them, if I can affect them, then our combined power will surely be doubled and our shared enemy will have their happiness halved.’

She had found the key to counterattacking the demon.

Ironically, that key was also what the demon had wanted her to find.

The pawn.

‘I just need to find the right sort of person.’ Yukari concentrated on spotting someone, anyone, who could notice her. With the ofuda making her invisible to most people, those few with natural spiritual power enough to allow them to notice her were the only ones worth considering for her plan.

Unfortunately, no one seemed to be noticing her now.

Con goer after con goer let their eyes slide over her presence, as if she were but a whisper in the wind. First ten, then fifty, then over a hundred ignored Yukari.

Without realizing, she broke into a cold sweat, keeping her smile but clenching her fists.

‘Someone who feels a deeper connection to me could fill the roll . . . .’ Just as she thought she would have to search for Alice and risk the girl’s life, she found herself locking eyes with a young man in glasses. Though it was only a brief shared stare, the intensity of it startled her. The ofuda should have limited his awareness of her partially no matter how spiritually aware he was but his gaze was completely open.

Each stared at the other for a few seconds before he turned away from her. Unlike so many others, she knew it wasn’t because of the ofuda’s compulsion.

The man simply gave up without trying.

There was something about him that made her take a breath, as if to remind herself that she was alive. Thus Yukari accepted that she’d walked into the fateful encounter she’d hoped for yet began to doubt herself nonetheless.

‘Those eyes . . . I know that look. It’s as if he’s lost everything dear to him.’ She’d seen the same expression, many years before, reflected in her own mirror.

Ignoring the twinge of guilt that pained her heart, Yukari decided to follow him.

 

“You want me to kill someone?” Archie asked, his tone chastened by uncertainty.

Drosselmeyer folded his arms across his chest, grinning wide and silent, his orange eyes shining with insane delight. There was no need for further words. They would only complicate things. ‘I must let this development play out as it will. I do believe the best twists are born from the character’s natural inclinations.’

Archie looked away from Drosselmeyer. He was thinking hard, considering the price for the power he craved down to his very soul.

The writer kept his mouth shut.

‘Prove you were the right choice, pawn,’ he thought maliciously.

“If I kill someone, if I spill their blood, the crest will be carved?”

Chuckling, Drosselmeyer answered truthfully with a lie and a nod.

“Yes.”

Archie sighed. “Okay, I can live with that.”

“Delightful!” Drosselmeyer clapped his hands together. “Now, we simply need someone convenient for you to use! A minor character, one not to be missed by the audience!” Stroking his beard, he thought for a moment, his eyes sliding back to Archie.

‘How twisted a soul are you?’ he wondered.

“I might . . . know someone,” Archie whispered.

“Oh? Whom might that be, young man?”

He leaned close, eager to hear the words he suspected were about to come. ‘I can shorten the game considerably if you pick him,’ Drosselmeyer thought gleefully.

Archie frowned at first, pondering the cruel thought that had run through his mind. Then his expression shifted, slowly, into a smile so faint it might not have been there at all. Though the corners of his mouth curled only slightly, and it held neither amusement or delight, it could still be called a smile.

The smile of a hunter stalking the deepest darkness of the oceans; a shark’s grin.

“Back in my hotel room-”

Before Archie could say another word, a whoosh of air signaled the arrival of someone.

The wraith demon casually tossed something at Archie’s feet.

“-holy!” Archie jumped back, startled.

Before him was an unconscious girl wearing cat ears.

“Oh poo,” Drosselmeyer snorted, “and just when we were about to have a truly tragic development in his family life. Well, I suppose this one will have to do.” Coldly, he mumbled to himself “and now the game will drag on. Is that really wise, my commissioner?”

Archie looked up at his demon. He had no words.

The wraith held out its hand. “Dominion: Dark Gift.” In an instant, an obsidian stone knife was formed from the very darkness of the surrounding shadows.

“Carve the crest,” it hissed.

Closing his eyes, Archie reached out to take the knife.

 

Yukari followed the young man in glasses. As they entered the convention hall, she watched as he was set adrift in a sea of humanity, tossed to and fro. Though she could not see his eyes now, Yukari felt confident they were lonely.

He glanced at her once, confirming his likely value, but otherwise he seemed perfectly average. He wasn’t particularly tall nor overly muscular. Bearded, bespectacled, nothing truly seemed to stick out about him. She noted that he was somewhat overweight, thought he seemed depressed and lonely, but otherwise deemed him unremarkable.

Yet, he kept noticing her. Directly and clearly.

‘There’s even a hint of lust in his eyes, though I’ll forgive him,’ she thought magnanimously. ‘He should be seeing me as little more than an ephemeral glimmer.’

As he headed for the P-T stall to sign in, Yukari kept close, stepping into the line that included Y names.

She watched as the P-T line grew longer. For some reason, people were allowed to cut in front repeatedly. Yukari noted the rising tensity of his shoulders. By the time she’d almost reached the end of her own line, he was even further back than when he’d started. Visibly irritated, he could only wait, ID in hand.

Yukari suddenly remembered what her own ID said and stepped out of line just in the nick of time to avoid having to explain herself.

‘Somehow, I expect they’d be cross with me,’ she thought, the Asagi Hearn false ID looming in her thoughts. She wasn’t really in a position to argue that she’d been in the right line all along.

“Out of my way, freak!”

At the sudden shout, Yukari was startled back to reality.

She watched as the subject of her observations crashed into a concrete column, having been shoved aside by another con goer. His glasses were gone and he was obviously in pain.

‘Ah, this will be a good opportunity to-’

Before Yukari could finish her thought, the young man’s face had changed. Wide-eyed, lips pulled back to bear his teeth, he leapt at his attacker and seized the fool by the shirt. In an instant, he’d slammed the ruffian up against the column.

‘-learn what his temperament is,’ Yukari completed her thought and realized she’d held her breath. Releasing it, she watched as events played out.

First, the ruffian acted like he was sorry.

Then her target seemed to relax and accept his apology.

‘Whereupon, said ruffian decides to throw a punch, because clearly that makes sense,’ Yukari shook her head at the absurdity of it all. Sometimes, humans still baffled her.

She did understand this young man who noticed her though.

He was like a coiled serpent, perpetually hissing at the world, yet eager to twirl about an offered arm. Lonely, always angry, but also very kind.

Yukari listened as a girl, likely the ruffian’s devotee, cheered “you get him, Kevin baby!”

‘Kevin is in for a surprise.’ She smiled darkly.

From where she stood, she couldn’t quite hear what her mark said to Kevin, but the ruffian seemed quite taken aback by it. His face drained of color.

At the same time, the victim in all of this morphed into something else entirely. Yukari saw his eyes light up, a dark intensity clear to her. She frowned, an uneasy chill seeping into her. The roles had been reversed as Kevin stumbled backward in fear.

Then the girl was protecting Kevin, shielding him as if she’d done it countless times before, her face braced for pain.

‘If he attacks her, then I’ll have to find someone else.’

Yukari watched the young man clearly debate exactly that mistake before he sighed and walked away. He paused only to retrieve his glasses, never once looking back.

She slowly let out the breath she’d been holding again. ‘I can use him,’ Yukari thought decisively. ‘There’s steel there to be sure but it is tempered by reason.’

The crowd that had gathered unnoticed by her broke up. Few gave her chosen pawn a second glance but she kept watching him as he returned to the P-T line, now even further back than before.

Watching the young man in glasses, she couldn’t help but chuckle. It wasn’t his plight that amused her, of course.

From over her shoulder, a voice said “how amusing that one is. He seems to be quite the tenacious soul. He will do.”

Sighing, Yukari turned and found herself facing the demon.

“Will he not?” it asked, already somehow knowing she’d chosen him.

Its looming presence seemed overpowering. The demon towered over her despite her decent height, looking for all the world like an ordinary human male in a finely tailored suit. Yet, for an instant, she sensed the edges of something else, something less than human. Though her keen eyes saw nothing more than it wanted her to see, she could almost make out something else. Her mind conjured the image of a figure hooded in darkness.

“Is he quite acceptable?” she asked, careful to sound disinterested in his answer.

It seemed to consider her question carefully, its infinitely calm eyes boring into her. It pondered Yukari’s choice, seeking any trace of a scheme, before nodding at last. Murmuring with a voice that chilled the air, it spoke a single word.

“Yes.”

Yukari opened her fan and held it to her face to hide a calculating smile.

‘You’ve underestimated us both,’ she thought.

The second day of the convention was ending but her counterattack had already begun.

 

* * *

 

Alone, still feeling a little sore from being thrown into the column, the young man in glasses carried his con bag. The ‘fight’ had drained him. Listlessly, he wandered the hotel hallways until he reached his room.

Inside, he set his con bag on his bed.

It had almost everything he needed for the convention. A badge, his tickets, and some assorted freebies. Almost everything.

He opened his travel bag . . . and removed a gun.

A semiautomatic pistol, chrome with a black matte finish grip, to be precise. It was fully loaded with 9mm rounds, the magazine firmly in place. A round was already chambered, the safety on. The weight of it was surprisingly light in his hand as he gripped it.

Caressing the metal, a tranquil smile curled the edges of his lips as he set the gun on the night stand. His fingers lingered on the cool metal for a moment too long. When he looked away from it, he sighed heavily.

“Just one more day,” he muttered bitterly as he undressed. Naked, he crawled under the covers, and tried to sleep. The third day of All Anime Allure Con was tomorrow.

Before he fell into a dream, he grumbled “reality is hell.”

 

* * *

  
  
Every role in life has associated rituals. Serving as the demon’s agent in this world, as its daemon, was no exception.

It walked up to Yukari and barked an order “your hand!” Without hesitating, she offered it politely but had to bite back a sneer and insult when the demon ripped her glove off.

Before her eyes, the creature’s own hand transformed slightly, one finger elongating, the fingernail thickening and lengthening into a deadly razor’s edge. The claw of a predator was brought down swiftly to dig into her flesh. ‘I knew it wasn’t truly human-shaped,’ she thought.

As the demon sank its claw into Yukari’s skin, piercing to draw red, it began to meticulously carve magic symbols.

For a youkai of her stature, the painful injury was certainly a nuisance but no more. She could recover from such disfiguring debasement swiftly enough.

And it was nothing compared to what happened before.

Still, she feigned a wince of pain. It wasn’t wise to appear unaffected. She’d swiftly learned that lesson through calmly evaluating the creature’s actions. Even her charade of submission didn’t fully satisfy the creature’s lust for pain and torment. Although it seemed vaguely content with her, it nevertheless enjoyed ever shred of suffering it could elicit, however minor it might be.

It was petty and cruel. She wondered why she was surprised by that. ‘Best to let it have easy satisfaction,’ she thought. No reason to encourage the demon’s creativity.

‘The hawk with talent hides its talons,’ she reasoned, letting her face twist as if such shallow cuts were almost too much to bear. ‘Let it think me weak, let it doubt me, let it be unguarded before me.’

Yukari wanted to kill. She could almost taste its meat.

The hate in her heart was reason enough to desire murder.

She feared carrying such a grudge into death.

The demon, however, seemed relentless in its cruelty.

Clearly enjoying itself, it rent flesh with not a hint of remorse, leaving a series of circles and runes perfectly etched into her skin. Even before it had completed its sigil, the various lines and symbols began to glow.

Yukari could sense energy flowing from the demon and into her.

Her eyes narrowed and her lips curled back.

She recognized this feeling. She was on the _wrong end_ of a master and familiar bond!

Clenching her teeth so tightly she expected to taste iron, Yukari drove down her desire to rage at the creature, and instead used every ounce of her hatred to appear pained.

Hate it. Kill it.

Her thoughts were viciously bloody.

The ritual ended almost as soon as it had started. The sigil radiated power for a moment then faded and, surprisingly, the carved markings were healed by her demon’s own power.

“There, you are marked as my daemon. You are mine,” her demon said in a strangely kind voice.

And she reacted to that kindness. Its manipulations were subtle but she felt them. Tiny shifts in her perceptions and emotions. Were she more foolish, she might not have noticed.

Bowing her head so it couldn’t see the rage in her eyes, Yukari almost didn’t trust herself to respond, but she managed a subservient “yes.” It was a dishonest word and her demon knew it. It had not unsealed her ability. ‘It has no real confidence in my loyalty then.’

Yet, she _could_ feel something. It was so faint she almost didn’t notice it through the haze of rage inside her. Faint but there. Real. A fragile fragment of the power she’d possessed for so long that it was a part of her no different from her limbs.

Yukari sensed boundaries.

Strangely, it left her feeling slightly unsure. Was this something she could rely on? Her ability had failed to destroy her demon before. Could she use it now to beat it?

Without answers, Yukari chose to hold in any hope and crush it deep down into the pit of her stomach. She could not rely on her ability, not yet at least. Instead, she had her wits and her hidden talons. ‘I need only wait for the proper moment to act.’

Her calculating mind was framing the edges of a plan.

Her demon chuckled darkly.

“Thinking of rebellion?”

Yukari kept her face a perfect mask. “Why ask? Alone, I’d certainly lose.”

Her demon laughed, clearly amused but far from convinced.

Glancing away from her demon’s wretched face, Yukari’s eyes wandered the blank room once again. Aside from herself and her tormenter, it was empty. Were Drosselmeyer and that other demon in the bounded field, observing the crowd? She presumed they might be going through whatever ritual was required to bind them as master and familiar as well.

Yukari sighed and wondered how long she would have to endure this farcical situation.

“Don’t trouble yourself, little youkai,” her demon said with a genuine smile. “Your task will be completed soon enough. I’m sure your chosen one will catch up quickly.”

Despite her anger, her demon’s words sparked concern and confusion. Her eyes must have broadcast these emotions for the creature chose to explain itself.

“As has long been our custom, the prior game’s winner receives a handicap.” It laughed and gestured dismissively. “In this battle, we agreed that I would wait to send my pawn.” It snapped its fingers and reality shifted from the empty room to the camouflaged bounded field. There, Yukari looked for the others, and found nothing.

Drosselmeyer and the other demon were gone. ‘No sign of a human captive either,’ Yukari worried. ‘If they’re already taking action, then . . . .’

“I suspect their pawn has already been empowered and sent off,” her demon blathered on, “but worry not! Even though our pawn’s movement will be delayed, what truly matters is the choice of pawn. I’m certain you chose the best.”

For a moment, its words did not register.

They were simply _too foolish_.

Then Yukari turned back, a deep sense of dread welling up inside of her.

“You’ve let them make the first move? Truly?”

Her demon laughed. “From your tone, you don’t approve? It has always been this way between us and always we’ve had the same ultimate outcome! I win!”

Yukari felt her eye twitch in irritation but she held her tongue.

It was lying to her. She knew it was. Drosselmeyer had told her that the prior ‘game’ ended in a draw and he seemed frighteningly credible.

No, she expected things were far worse than her demon’s arrogance allowed it to accept. Yukari had a suspicion that the writer was actively twisting the demons’ game to his own ends. There was also no doubt in Yukari’s mind that the other demon intended to shift the balance of power this time by using Drosselmeyer’s superior wits. She suspected the other demon held the initiative now as well as the element of surprise.

No, more than that. She _knew_ it did! It had chosen Drosselmeyer for far more than his cunning. ‘Damn it all, he’s a writer. Of course, that’s the key!’ Yukari realized the truth as if struck by a bolt of lightening.

She looked to her demon, its face a self-indulgent smile.

‘This fool thinks it still has the advantage! It cockily thinks itself a victor while perched on the edge of defeat? What Nine-ball insanity!’

She fumed at being a tool to an inept master!

“Pardon me,” she spoke in the sweetest voice she could muster, “but are you an idiot?”

Her demon’s mask of pleasantness deteriorated instantly. “You dare speak so to me!”

“I am a daring youkai,” Yukari agreed, “and you _must_ be a idiot. You’ve given up one of the supreme advantages of war, the initiative, to gain nothing in return but ego-stroking? Are you truly so densely blind as to see only victory while your enemy makes you dance like a puppet?”

She railed at her demon without relenting. “Fool! You are a fool! You force me to serve your whims and I dared hope you might at least be competent but instead I find myself bound as servant to a dunderhead!”

It opened its mouth to speak. She expected to be verbally abused quite forcefully; perhaps beaten.

Then, oddly, her demon took a deep breath and said “I always win the game. Allowing the Abyssal One to go first is merely proof of my magnanimity.”

Yukari noted the other demon’s title -she could tell it was a title from how her demon’s voice changed while speaking it- and tried not to act surprised by the lack of screaming.

“I admit, I am not familiar with the full history of your dueling,” Yukari folded her arms over her ample chest, “but is it not wiser to recognize weakness, and seek to overcome it, rather than enshrine it? The only advantage you ever give an enemy is one that conceals a far greater disadvantage.”

Her demon silently dwelt on what she’d said.

Then it turned away from her and spoke very deliberately.

“If the pawn you chose fails me, Gensokyo will be destroyed.”

  
“The two most powerful warriors are patience and time.”  
-Leo Tolstoy

 

End of Chapter 3

Next Chapter: Yukari’s Counterattack - Part 1


	4. Yukari’s Counterattack - Part 1

“In despair’s depths, I drowned in darkness. Beautiful lights I dreamt of yet wept in my sleep.”

  
“Do you actually believe you can destroy Gensokyo?” Yukari asked, her voice dripping with disbelief. “How arrogant!” She sounded calm but the purest of cold dread had seized her heart. The hand of fate squeezed tighter and tighter. Doubt did not exist.

Her demon cast a twisted smirk in her direction. “Failure must be punished . . . along with defiance.”

“Haven’t you chastened me enough?” Yukari asked, folding her arms across her chest. “Is your disregard for the lives of others so great that you would casually try to murder all of Gensokyo merely to have vengeance on me?”

Without hesitation, it answered, with eyes flashing a ghastly gold.

“Yes!”

“Why take this so far?”

As if to explain everything, it said “I am very old.”

“So am I,” Yukari admitted. “Well, I suppose I am further from my seventeenth than I should like but not half as far as I could be. Certainly I’ve aged like finest wine with wisdom to match. I see no value in vengeance without restraint or mercy.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Such barbarity is the province of _lesser_ beings.”

Her demon shook its head slowly. “You do not understand,” it grumbled. It closed its eyes and thought for a moment. Then, it said “I . . . we are older than your entire universe.”

Yukari waited for some hint of evidence.

“It is true, I assure you. We are older than your reality even if I were to count the years from your perspective. We predate the ages of the ancient mountains and sands of every universe we’ve ever entered . . . combined.”

“Truly?”

It sounded like mere boastful fluff but her demon nodded naturally.

“We predate your entire system of morality. Our purposes trump your lives. Believe or not, be loyal or not, in the end all that matters is whether your pawn has the will to go the distance or not. If it fails me, your precious gilded cage will be crushed without mercy.”

Wincing at its choice of words, Yukari kept her face still even as her blood ran cold. “So it knows that much, does it? A vexing opponent indeed.’

She closed her eyes and thought of the young man in glasses. Was he fit to be Gensokyo’s savior? Could he possibly stand beside her on the field of battle? Yukari no longer had a choice but to hope he was made of sterner stuff than the average human outsider.

“If you’re going to make such dire threats,” she said quietly, “then let me be clear to you as well: I will neither allow such harm to befall Gensokyo nor will I sacrifice even a single resident to satisfy your whims. You can take your ancient morality and toss it upon history’s ash heap with the rest of the rubbish.”

Her demon laughed throatily. “Ah! Good! Few of life’s pleasures equal the fun had from breaking a strong woman’s will!”

Its hand shot out and powerful fingers wrapped around her throat. She gasped but glared defiantly at her master nonetheless. It leaned in close enough that a whisper of fear rose from deep inside; a feminine fear that only the most outrageous of brutes could engender.

“Pieces on the game board can be such amusing distractions,” the demon mused.

Yukari prepared herself mentally. “Such a brute,” she snapped.

Before she knew was happening, her body slammed into the farthest wall hard enough to snap something deep inside, wrenching a gasp from her lips. Excruciating pain tore through her. Forced her to shed tears, she only belatedly realized that she’d been lifted by the neck and tossed aside as if she weighed no more than a newborn kitten.

Still defiant, Yukari glared with purple eyes filled with hate.

“Go,” the demon ordered, “and bring me my pawn. I grow _bored_ of you.”

And she was shifted away to a darkened hotel room.

 

* * *

 

“So, Patchy, can I ask a question?”

Patchouli took a slow breath then let it out in a long sigh.

“Can I? Or not?”

“Remi, I still have quite a lot of work to do.” A hint of irritation seeped into her voice, but Remilia ignored it as she squatted next to Patchouli on the floor. Glancing around them uncertainly, the mistress of the manor looked at her friend with obvious concern. It wasn’t difficult for Patchouli to comprehend that the room around them was the issue at hand.

They were in the Scarlet Devil Mansion’s largest ballroom, which had been a massive magnificent monument to pure wealth indulgence even before Sakuya used her ability to manipulate time and dimensional space to enlarge it. This ‘room’ boasted the tallest ceiling in the manor, had enormous stone columns on all sides, and was large enough to fit entire houses should Remilia so wish.

Indeed, thanks to the countless magic runes inscribed on the ceiling, walls, and each column, it could be expanded to fit the entire human village if necessary.

It had been an important pet project of Patchouli’s for some time; one she’d regretfully chosen to set aside in favor of trying to rescue Yukari. The massive room was the best possible location for the magic she’d soon be attempting because of its unique spacial warping. It was a gamble regardless. Patchouli could only hope the attempt, whether success or failure, wouldn’t prevent her from resuming the project later.

The same fears had evidently wrapped themselves around her dearest friend. “Are we gonna lose this?” Remilia asked uncertainly, the concern clear on her face.

Patchouli rubbed at her eyes. Sleep had ceased to be an option recently. “Possibly. I’m not really sure though. It might be fine or it might not.”

“Urgh, why are you always so troublesome?”

“Isn’t that my job here?” Patchouli asked, genuinely amused when Remilia opened her mouth to retort then shut it quickly. They’d been friends for decades but she still hadn’t tired of the many different faces of Remilia Scarlet.

Smiling despite her extreme exhaustion, she leaned in close and very gently thumped Remilia’s forehead with a finger.

“Please,” she said gently, “I have much work to do still.”

“Maybe I can help with something?”

Patchouli thought for a moment as Remilia rubbed her forehead.

“Perhaps you could fetch Ms. Fox?”

Nodding and saluting, Remilia grinned happily. “Aye aye, Cap’n Patchy!” she said before flying off at top speed, her wings barely even moving.

In spite of herself, Patchouli snickered mirthfully. Snorting as she tried to repress full-blown laughter, she began to draw the beginnings of the second largest magical array in Gensokyo’s history.

It wasn’t the Great Hakurei Barrier but it would be impressive nonetheless.

 

* * *

 

After being shifted away by her demon, Yukari briefly lost herself, then immediately realized she was in another hotel room. It was not very dissimilar from her own, featuring a charmless modern style, but this one included complimentary healing. All courtesy of her less-than-benevolent master she expected.

It took her a second too long to realize she was not alone.

Sitting up in bed, bare from neck to waist with the rest of his body covered in sheets, was the very same young man she’d chosen earlier. He was squinting without his glasses but clearly he saw her well enough.

There was no telltale shake to his hand as he held steady aim on her. The pistol he quite naturally pointed at her chest was doubtlessly loaded. Yukari would have been relieved if it weren’t but also, ironically, disappointed.

‘Well, there goes any hope of starting this conversation in a peaceful manner,’ she thought wryly. Very carefully, she slowly raised her hands, and waited.

Yukari felt her heart pounding. She still had the invisibility ofuda but it was clearly completely useless on him. His gun and her lack of power made him a threat. She’d been shot before, of course, and it hurt. Rarely was it a big deal. However, without her ability, it wouldn’t just be painful. It might be fatal. This man’s forbearance alone permitted her life now.

She intended to make use of every heartbeat he allowed her. Patiently, she waited, knowing that these sorts of situations were best paced by the man with the gun.

After a few tense moments, he quietly asked “who are you?”

“My name is Yukari Yakumo and I’m a youkai,” Yukari answered honestly.

“. . . .”

She smiled gently. “I’m not insane, I assure you.”

He stared at her without an expression.

“You’re the real Yukari?”

Her ears perked at the faint tone of genuine consideration in his voice. ‘He’s open-minded,’ she thought, nodding. She pressed on.

“Yes, quite real. You may disbelieve me and still question my existence all you like but I believe the Anthropic Principle is illustrative of the futility of such questioning.”

As she took a breath to go on, he spoke instead.

“You’re implying that it’s pointless for me to think about because you _do_ exist.”

It wasn’t a question. Yukari was a bit impressed.

“Hmm, yes, that was partly what I was thinking. It had a dual-meaning.”

“Right. You’re the real Yukari from Touhou?” He kept his gun in his right hand. With his left, he reached over to the night stand beside his bed.

He put his retrieved glasses on quickly but carefully, never shifting his aim.

Once he was able to see Yukari clearly, he sucked in a sharp breath, and lowered his weapon immediately.

“Okay, you’re really her.”

“Just like that?” Yukari asked in surprise.

“You’re good at math, right? What’s the probability that someone who looks exactly like the best fan art of Yukari Yakumo, a character from a Japanese bullet hell game, would appear in an American hotel room with me? How likely is it such a person would actually claim to be the real deal? Hell, what about the chances I’d have seen her before? And more to the point,” he leaned in closer, “does anyone in the real world even have eyes as purple as yours?”

She thought about it, running the actual calculations, then half-heartedly offered “well, in laymen’s terms, it’s more likely that you’d win the lottery while riding a unicycle naked and being struck by lightening . . . five times in a row.” Yukari smiled. “But my eyes aren’t nearly so rare as that.”

He leaned back in his bed.

“The real Yukari. . . .” He was still holding his pistol but it seemed he’d decided he didn’t need it after all. Now that the excitement was over, he seemed to wilt, his shoulders slumping as he closed his eyes.

Without meaning to, Yukari drew closer to him and gently touched his brow. When he looked up in surprise, she smiled sadly.

“I think . . . I understand you. I can tell how . . . _tired_ . . . you are.”

He stiffened and looked away. “You sleep a lot but it’s not entirely because you’re lazy.”

Yukari nodded. “Not entirely, no. At least, I wasn’t so lazy back then as I am now but I sleep better far more often as of late.” She sighed and laid down beside him on the bed. Ignoring his shocked expression, staring at the hotel room ceiling, she pointed at a particular spot. “What does that look like to you?”

“Just a crack,” he answered tremulously.

“Mmm, I see much more. It looks like a lightening bolt to me. Though,” she turned her head to meet his eyes, “I suppose I’d have had the same answer not so long ago, when I slept long and lived less.”

Her words struck him. He looked away, eyes downcast, and stared at the wall. Deep inside, he had questions. So many that he wasn’t sure where to start. Feeling lost, he kept silent.

Yukari lay beside him, staring at the ceiling, waiting for him. She thought she understood him and thus she expected that his mind was racing with uncertainty and confusion. Yet, there was little doubt in her mind now that he was the right choice.

At last, he found his courage, and asked the most important question.

“Why are you here?”

“I need your help,” Yukari admitted quietly.

Then she began to tell her story.

 

* * *

 

More than a day had passed since Patchouli started constructing the array.

As magical constructs went, it was by far the largest she had ever built, and certainly the most complex. There were thousands of calculations involved, tens of thousands of volumes worth of magician’s lore, and by her own _painstaking_ count nearly a million symbols.

The enormous chamber’s floor was covered in chalk, salt, ash, blood, and a dozen other arcane reagents. It was fortunate that flight was the most common ability in Gensokyo or it would have taken even longer to fine tune the array. Flying let her overlook the process properly, a necessity as the lines had to be precisely drawn to work correctly.

Plus, she knew she would have been continually, though unintentionally, sweeping the floor with her dress otherwise. She was overwhelmed already and needed no more work.

Construction of the array was proceeding smoothly since she didn’t have to have to constantly repair accidents. Although she’d never before dealt with the type of magic that had spirited away Yukari, Patchouli was basing everything on using familiar bonds to project a spell.

‘I’ve done it once, I can do it again,’ she reasoned as she began the most important phase of her work.

The key feature of her vast magical array was the enormous hexagram at its core. As she started setting candles at each point, Patchouli held her breath and focused completely on the exacting task. Carefully, she centered each candle so that the trigram drawn on it pointed toward the hexagram’s center. Every one was a different color, representing a different element. She needed to call upon numerous magical forces through the precisely calibrated array and the margin of error for placement was less than half a millimeter.

The painstaking process exhausted her but she had to do it alone. She took frequent coffee breaks as the late night turned into another early morning. It helped that there were no outside windows to distract her with proof of time’s passage.

Every now and then, Patchouli would sigh and pause to grumble to herself. “Such a bother,” she said during one break. “Why must great magicians always be so burdened?”

“Oh! Because with great power comes great adversity?” Her most loyal familiar devil, Koakuma, chimed in randomly. She set down a box of odds and ends with a cheerful grin.

Patchouli stared at her familiar. Then she shrugged. “For some reason, I have the feeling you botched a quote though I can’t guess why. Perhaps it’s a sign that this magic array is beginning to work.”

“Mistress, does that mean I’m helpful?”

“No.”

“Oh,” Koakuma slumped and seemed on the verge of tears.

Smiling gently, Patchouli patted her on the head, scratching her between her bat-like head-wings. The devil giggled and blushed and started humming a jaunty tune.

“You’re _very_ useful,” she assured her familiar, “now, go fetch more coffee. I’m not even halfway through.” Patchouli’s order was tossed over her shoulder as she returned to setting candles at perfect alignments.

Koakuma nodded eagerly and zipped off without another word.

“Hah,” Patchouli sighed as she resumed her work. “If this fails . . . .”

With a sniff, she shook her head and redoubled her efforts to ensure that the array would not be a failure.

“I suppose even I want to see her return.”

 

* * *

 

Archie had expected it to be hard but carving the crest of blood was surprisingly easy instead. It was almost . . . fun.

Blood dripped from the obsidian knife. He stared at its tip, focused on the red gore that clung to it. He turned the knife around and around. As he examined it, he took in shaky but deep breaths of air, his heart still racing from what he’d done.

Stabbing a person was easier than he’d thought it would be but the experience was infinitely more difficult as well.

“That was too intense. I don’t want to do that again,” he said under his breath.

Drosselmeyer leaned in from behind. “Oh? Having second thoughts already?”

“No!” Archie shot up, dropping the knife. The clatter as it hit the floor was like a thunderclap to the teen’s ear. He jerked as if bitten by the blade.

His chest ached so much he thought he was having a heart attack.

His hands, splattered with red, were shaking.

Smiling, he took a deep breath, held it, then faced Drosselmeyer.

“I want to go now.”

“Hmm? Do you? Alright, let’s have you open a portal then!” With a clap and a twisted grin, Drosselmeyer took up his quill and paper. “Now, this won’t hurt a bit,” he said as he began to write.

A few seconds later, Archie knew everything about his new powers.

He raised his left hand, clenching and unclenching his fingers. A faint tingle, like static electricity, numbed the skin of his fingertips.

Archie raised his hand and, palm spread open, thrust outward. “PORTAL!” he shouted far more loudly than was necessary. His words triggered a change in the air and before him reality parted like curtains. Stunned by his own success, he struggled with the sight of countless glittering crystals in an ocean of darkness. He froze in indecision.

“Now move along! Move along!” Drosselmeyer commanded, shoving him toward the portal’s entrance. “Go, and serve my commissioner! You’ve got an important role in this story and you best make the most of it! I daresay the opening stage never holds the excitement of the end game so, by all means, hasten this game’s journey to its end!”

Pressed from behind by the old writer’s floating hands, Archie could hardly refuse.

 

In another reality, onboard the Titans’ vessel Alexandria, soldiers were restlessly preparing for the battle to come. They could sense that the ship’s current master, Lieutenant Commander Jamaican Daninghan, was leading them into yet another difficult fight.

They weren’t sure exactly what was happening, but apparently it had something to do with the traitor Emma Sheen. As the crew swiftly moved from place to place, performing equipment checks and preparing for battle, Jamaican himself sat at his desk sorting papers.

Occasionally, he sipped his coffee. Here and there he fiddled with his blonde mustache.

“I have to do everything myself. Why am I surrounded by incompetents?” Jamaican grumbled to himself as he sifted through summaries of reports.

The Argama, his prey, had successfully navigated the debris of the Side 4 region. He hadn’t expected it but they’d managed to pull it off. From this point, a trio of possible destinations came to mind.

He’d dismissed the Moon and Side 2 colonies out of hand.

That left the necropolis.

“Side 1 it is then,” he said as he reached for the intercom button.

The room filled with lightening.

Swirling electric arcs erupted from an empty spot in the room. They coalesced into a spiral, turning counterclockwise, and gaining depth. Mere seconds after appearing, the mass of energy began to spread outward along its circumference. It had started small, no larger than a dinner plate, but now it expanded into a circle many times greater. Indescribable in its beauty yet utterly terrifying, the circle of lightening grew tall enough it almost reached the metal overhead.

It stopped just short. Impossibly, the arcing electricity seemed to completely ignore the countless natural lightening rods and grounds around it. The flowing power simply swirled and took the shape of a circle with a flat center of streaking energy.

Then it opened.

There was no other way to describe it. Jamaican watched in stunned awe as the center of the circle of power spread apart from its core, as theater curtains being parted would, and revealed a bizarre sight beyond.

He saw darkness filled with clockwork gears; a strange and hideous old man with bulging, inhumanely large orange eyes; and a teenage boy with an awestruck expression dressed in briefs and a T-shirt with the word **Gundam** emblazoned on it.

The boy stepped forward. He passed through from his side to Jamaican’s side. For a moment, both marveled at what he’d just done, but then the boy turned to watch the portal close.

‘It’s a door,’ Jamaican belatedly realized.

The energy flow halted the instant the boy was through. It folded in on itself, collapsed back into a ball, then vanished. A strange sound, almost like the thumping of a human heart, echoed in the now silent room.

Jamaican stared at the boy.

Turning back, Archie stared through Jamaican to face his future.

The silence ended when the invader from another reality raised his left hand and spoke but three words.

“Dominion: The Conqueror.”

 

Everyone aboard the Alexandria felt the sudden lurch. It happened without warning. As if seized by an enormous hand, then immediately tossed aside like an unruly child’s least favorite toy, the ship shook and Titans fell to their knees.

“What the hell was that?!” Jerid Messa snarled as he tried to keep his footing.

In front of him, Lila Milla Rira, his superior officer and a woman, kept steady at the cost of the towel that had been wrapped around her. As her body was revealed, her face betrayed not a hint of embarrassment. The ship might be in danger, and until that threat was eliminated, she was every inch a soldier.

Jerid, however, had too many inches focused in the wrong direction.

Lila glared at him. “Stop gawking and get moving! If its an attack, we’ll need pilots!”

Her order pierced the veil her nudity had cast over his brain. Snapping to attention, Jerid blushed as he saluted her in several ways. “Aye aye, Lieutenant! Heading out!”

He ran from her quarters as if chased by all the demons of hell.

‘That was kind of cute,’ Lila thought as she quickly grabbed pants and a shirt to dress before dashing from her room herself. She shook her head as soon as the thought arose. ‘Were we attacked? Unlikely.’

It hadn’t felt like that. It was more like . . . turbulence?

Lila passed dozens of Titans on her way to the Commander’s briefing room, where she expected to find Jamaican. ‘He might be an arrogant prick, but he’s still a solider.’

When she passed through the doors, “sir, what was tha-” she froze.

Jamaican lay on the floor, crumpled and broken. A thick puddle of blood was growing ever larger around him. His eyes stared blankly at eternal darkness.

A young man, no more than a teenage boy really, stood over him.

He was dressed in a uniform identical to Jamaican’s.

Were it not perfectly absurd to her, she would have believed him to be a high-ranking Titans officer. In fact, her conscious mind _insisted_ that was the truth.

Fortunately, she relied upon her veteran’s instincts; they screamed to be on guard.

Lila’s hand went to her hip but found nothing. She had no weapon. Her sidearm was back in her quarters, left behind in her haste. Narrowing her eyes, she stared down the strangely calm youth. She raised her fists and prepared to fight, believing in her training.

“Stand down, Lieutenant,” the boy said in a calm voice.

The compulsion to obey hit her hard enough that she staggered back a step. Then she gritted her teeth and powered through it.

“Like hell,” she snarled back.

His eyes widened but then Archie nodded sagely. “Right, some characters have stronger wills than others. My Dominion isn’t absolute,” he smirked, “not yet.”

Gibberish. The murderer was speaking gibberish.

“He deserved it. Everyone thinks so,” he said blithely.

Lila’s eyes widened. Part of her felt compelled to agree but she shoved it down deep and asked defiantly “that gives you the right to murder him?”

“Sure does,” he said as if it were the most natural conclusion to reach. A smug look of superiority on his face as he spoke, he explained.

“Jamaican was an arrogant fool and following his orders would have gotten you killed at Colony 30. He wouldn’t have given you any support, you’d be shaken up from learning that the Titans ordered the massacre, and Kamille would have killed you. Newtypes tend to win when they’re in a Gundam.”

His words left Lila stunned.

She’d only recently realized that the pilot of the stolen Gundam Mk.II was likely a Newtype. The rumor about Colony 30 had reached her ear but she’d doubted even the Titans were so ruthless as to massacre an entire colony of helpless civilians. Still, she’d always carried with her a sliver of doubt.

Every word he’d just said rang true to her ears. Lila felt certain he was telling the truth about what would have happened in the future although that seemed impossible. ‘Who is he?’ Her battle-forged instincts screamed that this kid was powerful, and in charge, too. She felt an uncharacteristic shiver of fear dance down the center of her back.

‘Just who in the Hell is he?’

“Think I’m lying if you like,” he said flippantly, “but one thing’s for sure-”

He glared at her, as if defying her to disagree.

“-I’m in charge now.”

Lila shook her head. “This isn’t how you get a promotion, kid.”

He grinned. “Really? Tell it to the Klingons! There’s a war going on, woman! What kind of leader draws the souls of his men into hell with him? What kind of arrogance is that? His pathetic excuse for leadership would have gotten everyone killed. That’s why I’m taking over.”

Casually, seeming to have realized that Lila wasn’t going to move on him right away, Archie leaned down to click the intercom button on the commander’s desk. “Attention! This is the _new_ commander of the Alexandria! To all loyal Titans aboard this fine ship, let me assure you that no attack is underway. You are safe and under _my_ care now. All mobile suit pilots should assemble in the conference room, now!”

With his declaration made, he released the button, smirking at Lila.

“Following me comes with perks. Biggest one: I’m not an idiot like him,” he pointed down at Jamaican’s corpse. “And number two: I’m going to promote Jerid. From now on, he’ll be part of my elite personal guard.”

“What makes you think any of that matters to me? Perks are meaningless. I’m here to serve the Earth and protect her people. I don’t care about perks.”

The boy smiled as the conference room door opened again.

“What the hell is this?!” Jerid gasped as he caught sight of Jamaican’s corpse.

“A coup,” Archie said with a chuckle. “Messa, under my authority as commander of this ship, I’m promoting you to full Lieutenant. Forget that junior grade shit! Wait, no, even better! You’re now a Lieutenant Commander.”

Jerid was shocked at first but clearly pleased as well. Then, as if shaking off a dream, his eyes grew defiant. “What kind of farce is this? Who the hell are you?”

“Right, I need a Gundam name.” Thinking for a moment, Archie smiled. “Listen up, you, and know this! The name of the Titans’ newest top officer is . . . Tate Than!”

Although made up on the spot, it was fitting. Harsh and ominous. ‘It suits me,’ Archie thought as the conference room doors opened again. Dozens of pilots and higher rank Titans among the Alexandria’s crew flooded in. Each and every one had heard his declaration.

Something remarkable happened.

They started clapping and cheering.

As thunderous applause surrounded him, he thought ‘this is great! I’m getting everything I deserve!’ As one by one, the crew of the Alexandria stepped up to shake the hand of their new commander, he almost laughed. He ignored the stunned stares of Jerid and Lila.

Soon enough, they would fall in line too. Archie . . . no, _Than_ was sure of it.

 

An auspicious audience bore witness to the events in the **Zeta Gundam** universe.

From the dark room filled with clockworks, Drosselmeyer and his demon watched the progress of their chosen pawn, each taking pleasure in the inspiring darkness of his introduction speech. Sitting in twin thrones, they stared into the reflecting mirrors as images shifted about. Watching the human at work, Drosselmeyer found himself impressed.

“My, he does make for a better character than I expected,” he said as Archie dramatically renamed himself. “I admit, I had my doubts, but in the end I must say that this choice has proven more than a bit interesting after all! Why, I’m almost jealous.”

He turned to the demon beside him. “My esteemed commissioner, I applaud you!” His severed hands floated up and repeatedly clapped before the demon’s face.

The wraith remained silent.

Drosselmeyer’s hands reattached at his wrists and he propped elbow upon armrest then slouchingly settled in to watch more. Chin against his palm, he sighed.

“Still . . . is it enough? He’s doing a rather sloppy job so far. Impressive, yes certainly so, but _sloppy_.” Drosselmeyer shook his head and clucked his tongue. Furrowing his brow, he slowly stroked his beard and narrowly stared.

“The game board is still being set up and already he’s using his dominion as a bludgeon. It’s certainly a valid stratagem but there’s no finesse in his methods. No style.” Drosselmeyer glanced over at his ally.

“Certainly we have our little backup ploy . . . but, do you really expect him to win the game’s first round with such obvious and direct tactics?” he asked, a hint of concern in his tone.

Beside him, his demon turned. Its face hidden in an all-concealing darkness, it spoke not a word. Not even a whisper. It stared at the old writer, without even the telltale glow of its red eyes to convey emotion.

Yet Drosselmeyer began to grin gleefully.

He was cruel enough to understand.

“Oh my,” the old man threw back his head and howled with vulgar laughter, “what a wicked one you are! I’d had the same thoughts! We are truly of one mind!”

Cackling happily, Drosselmeyer turned back to watch the frog in the well pretending it was the master of countless oceans.

 

* * *

 

Yukari wasn’t sure what concerned her more: the loneliness in the man’s eyes or his continued calmness in spite of her story.

Even she, who had seen and done many more things than the average human, had been stunned by the revelations she was sharing with the bespectacled young man. Yet, despite the sheer scale of what Yukari spoke of, he continued to listen with no outward expression of emotion at all.

His lips stayed a thin semi-straight line. His eyes were flat but focused. The occasional blink proved he was awake but little else suggested it.

He was slightly unnerving in his calmness.

‘Perhaps I chose rashly after all? Ah, tis too late to regret it. I’ll just have to make do with him,’ Yukari reckoned carelessly.

At the end of her summary of everything that had happened, from the moment she was spirited away by the demon to the moment she chose him as a pawn, he asked only one question.

“What about the Medium Transfer Principle?”

“Pardon?” Yukari stared at him, dumbfounded.

‘Where did _that_ question come from?’ she wondered. ‘More to the point, what is he talking about?’

Quietly looking down at his bed sheets as he spoke, as if embarrassed, he elaborated.

“A crossover fanfic writer, I think his handle was Admiral-Catpaw? Something like that. Anyway, he came up with it. Basically, it’s the idea that objects or people traveling between different universes should retain the properties and physical characteristics of their home universe, regardless of their current location.”

Looking up, staring at her with strangely blank eyes, he asked “does that sound about right to you or does it sound wrong?”

Yukari repressed a smile. It wasn’t a bad question after all. Thinking about it for a moment, she considered her own situation carefully. Her own interpretation of matters fell in line with that theorem. In fact, it was essentially one of the very pillars she’d built her understanding on.

However, there was a caveat.

‘How clever is this human?’ she wondered.

An uncanny smile drew his eye as he listened to her answer.

“Yes.”

He titled his head slightly. “A mathematician’s answer? So parts of it are right but not all of it?”

“Hmm, yes. What might be missing?”

For a moment, he paused, closing his eyes to think.

‘If he realizes which piece is still in the puzzle box, then . . . .’

His eyes widened and he almost smiled. Then he paused and thought some more. Seconds steadily piled up, hesitation stealing away the answer’s impact. He hesitated so long that Yukari sighed and gave up. She touched his shoulder.

“Wrong answers,” she soothingly said, “are but steps we take to reach epiphanies.”

He nodded immediately, which surprised her. ‘He’s intelligent but indecisive in his own choices. Yet, he’s quick to correct his mistakes.’ Then he surprised her again with his answer.

“Well, I think the principle is right overall but it leaves out transference.”

Yukari nodded. “Indeed, it would be appropriate to add that an object or person from one universe can transfer properties and physical characteristics of their home universe to objects or persons in another universe. The means by which to do it are those means which would have been used in the home universe.” She paused and took a breath. “Well, that was a wordy way to say that just because something or someone is traveling between realities, it doesn’t mean they cannot interact with their new reality in a logical manner.”

“So, basically, no matter where you are, you aren’t protected from the things around you at all. Contamination is possible unless there’s a clear rule preventing it.”

“Precisely,” Yukari said.

“No immunity from magic then?”

“None.”

“Are you sure?”

Yukari raised an eyebrow.

“Right, you’re sure.”

“Quite. It’s simple logic really. If one was immune to elements of a foreign reality then it would be impossible for such elements to apply to that individual. Bridging the gap between realities requires a ‘magic’ method; I can think of no scientific principle that substitutes for such as science is based on a reality’s natural physics. Although a lack of observation of a phenomena doesn’t disprove the possibility of such phenomena, we can safely presume that anti-magic physics govern individuals in anti-magic realities. Therefore, the traveler of realities is, by definition, one who is affected by magic.”

Thinking for a moment, she studied her companion’s face, searching for hints of incomprehension or confusion. Finding none, she went on.

“Pragmatically, science may be thought of as the utilization of observable and reproducible phenomena based in a reality’s natural physics to achieve results. If the natural physics of a reality are anti-magic, then a foreign reality cannot invade it as the method of travel is prevented.”

“Further, a reality governed by anti-magic physics being unreachable by magical travel methods is only part of the problem. The anti-magic observer lacks a fundamental ability to observe the boundaries between realities and thus cannot formulate hypothesis nor conduct experiments capable of comparable results.” Yukari took a breath and let it out. Wrinkling her nose, she sniffed in irritation. “Crossing the invisible boundary lines separating realities is not possible for those who cannot observe them.”  
  
She ground her teeth as she forced herself to add “these particular boundaries are ones even _I_ did not know existed until recently. Scientific means cannot reproduce the method of traversing them nor can they lead to observation of them if even my youkai ability failed to.”

Her ally closed his eyes.

“It would be very dangerous to join my side,” Yukari admitted, “but please consider it.”

“I’m in.”

Blinking in surprise, Yukari stared at him. She hadn’t expected so swift a response. “Perhaps you should take a moment to think about it properly?”

He shook his head. “You’re like Kuroyukihime,” he said as if that name should mean something to her, “and you’re offering to destroy my current reality. I’ve wanted a beautiful woman to do that since I was in grade school. So, yeah, I’m in.”

He smiled. “The man I was before meeting you is dead. Call it suicide if you want.”

Yukari frowned uncertainly. “That’s a bit . . . melodramatic.”

“Call me Arjay,” he offered as if to apologize.

 

* * *

 

Drosselmeyer folded his hands in his lap as he watched the conversation between youkai and human. “Are we allowed to spy on them like this?” he asked curiously, glancing at the imposingly thick book resting on his desk.

Beside him, the wraith nodded.

“It’s allowed since I’m here,” the voice of Yukari’s demon thundered in the darkness. Standing stiffly behind them, its face a rigid sneer, it glared at the mirror’s reflection of events. “That’s the only reason it’s not a violation of the rules, isn’t that right, Abyssal One?”

The other demon faded into the shadows rather than reply.

“Running away? Bah!”

The suit-wearing demon tossed its head and glared at the mirrored reflections of worlds beyond the darkness filled with clockworks. It frowned as it observed Yukari and Arjay from Drosselmeyer’s space.

“I suppose we must play sentry until she completes the game board’s setup,” it muttered.

“Indeed!” Drosselmeyer intoned, his face a rictus of twisted glee. “Prisoners do so love that false sense of freedom to do what they feel they need to do. They find it very . . . soothing. So true. You are quite the astute one.”

“Shut up,” the demon snarled, disgusted by the obsequious tone in the writer’s voice. “I have work to do.”

It vanished with a sharp wave of its hand.

Alone, Drosselmeyer sneered into the darkness. He picked up a roll of parchment paper, wrapped around a wooden roller with golden end caps, and took his feather quill in hand.

He dipped tip in sanguine ink and a low chuckle rasped from his lips.

“Indeed you do. Please, put all your effort into setting the stage for a wonderful funeral.”

Drosselmeyer began to write. As ink slowly covered paper, his words seeped into other worlds. In the beginning, few felt their terrible pressure, for they were but words. Then the words were with the Plots and the countless realities comprising the demons’ near-infinite game board became subject to Drosselmeyer’s tragic plan.

“My will be done,” he commanded with a twisted smile.

 

* * *

 

Yukari’s demon suddenly appeared in the hotel room. “It’s time to go! We shouldn’t waste another moment on this prattle!”

It didn’t deign to introduce itself or explain anything.

It simply moved Arjay to a new location without warning.

Finding himself naked and alone on a filthy tile floor, Arjay searched for even the barest hint of normalcy.

None was to be found.

Surrounded by stone, with a few wooden support beams here and there, it seemed a peculiarly ominous place. Its high walls towered into an oppressive ceiling. There were several open doorways but no windows. The floor was covered in dark splotches, as if something horrible had been spilled. There was no furniture, no sound, and only the faintest scent of cherry blossoms in the air kept it from being completely odorless.

Pounding erratically, the cacophony of his own heart beating filled Arjay’s ears. He clutched himself, burying his face against his knees. Cold tears soaked into skin. Shivering, Arjay thought of Yukari.

“Will I see her again? Does she really exist? Am I going crazy?”

He wasn’t afraid. Youkai, fictitious figment, or just proof of severe sleep deprivation, whatever she might be she was kind. He trusted in that. Even if all that he was experiencing were but a dying dream following a severe cerebral infraction, he wanted to rely on her.

Placing his trust in her, he chose to have faith and held that belief close.

“She said I might die,” he whispered to himself with a smile. “Worry about yourself, Yukari. You’ve got loved ones waiting for you. You’re not alone.”

Arjay closed his eyes. He sighed and nodded. “I’m ready whenever you are.”

As if his words were a trigger, Yukari appeared in a blink along with her demon.

As Yukari’s ally, Arjay let himself hate this thing in a man-shaped container.

“I’ve told my little youkai daemon all of the important details about the powers I’m offering you. All you need to know is this: if you are ready to join me then repeat these words!”

Listening to the demon, Arjay felt a prickling sensation in the back of his brain. He took nothing said at face value and found himself doubting the words were quite right.

It didn’t give him a chance to mull the incantation over. The demon started explaining basic information about being its pawn so he tried to focus. Arjay calmly considered what Yukari’s demon was proposing until it started talking about what victory would bring.

“-and of course, the prize for your victory will be the deepest and truest desire of your heart. I can assure you, regardless of what you wish for, I can grant it if you win.” It smiled. “Let that sink in a moment.”

What it was offering was beyond belief. Arjay knew exactly what he wanted. He’d known since his childhood. ‘For now,” he thought, ‘let me disappear from this world.’ He kept that thought to himself as he mulled over something other than his answer.

“Well,” the demon snarled at the end of its patience, “how much longer do you intend to keep me waiting? Everyone agrees so are you going to say the words you must or not?”

“Yes,” Arjay said quickly.

“Then do it!”

Ignoring the demon’s commanding tone, he glanced over at Yukari. Silently, she offered him no hint at all, though her lips curved in a kind smile.

This decision was his to make and she had no intention of influencing him. He doubted she knew what prize he would be playing to win either.

‘That’s all I needed to know,’ he thought as he smiled back.

Arjay knelt before the demon.

“Demon, I make this vow in fulfillment of the ancient covenant, and upon my soul I call unto thee. Let my flesh be the essence. Let blood be our contract’s foundation. My soul lies between reality and fantasy.”

The air began to flow, carrying a sweet scent like honey mixed with cherry blossoms. Drum-like beats slowly rose with his every word, each sounding closer than the last. He felt a strange sense of nostalgia as he spoke, as if the words were long forgotten memories rising back to his consciousness.

“I offer myself in service of creation, swear myself to my own path, and vow to become an existence that defies control. Let me be as the written word, changing yet unchanged, and through my actions forge the path of my own dominion.”

Yukari closed her eyes, smiling uncannily.

Her demon grinned, clearly pleased. ‘He’s a suitable host,’ it thought triumphantly, ‘and soon I will control the limitless power of the strongest Dominion of them all.’

Unaware of the demon’s plotting, Arjay intoned “my mind shall obey me, my fate shall be yours, I submit to you and beckon forth the wages of my sacrifice.” As that ominous word slipped from his lips, Arjay paused suddenly, a strange sensation striking him to his core. He jerked as if struck and went limp, his head drooping against his bare chest.

Yukari’s eyes popped open in surprise.

The demon’s eyes narrowed as it drew a sharp breath.

Something changed in Arjay’s voice as he spoke off script. His voice dripped with scornful glee as he proclaimed “I shall not be alone for I am lost, my fate is not set for tomorrow exists, and upon my altar may worlds perish in my wake or prosper by my hand.”

Arjay turned toward Yukari and met her uncertain gaze with his own fearful one. His lips continued to move, feeling as if they were his yet not his again. “Answer! Grant me all the powers my oath shall obtain!”

The demon shook its head and brushed off the lapels of its suit sleeves. It shot a harsh look at Yukari and sighed. “So you’ve chosen a human with hidden depths. How many times must I endure the burden of incompetent assistance” it muttered. Raising its arms, streams of pure darkness shot out from its palms, arcing and twisting as if they were black lightening.

They danced over head for several seconds, as if trying to restrain themselves, then suddenly rushed at Yukari’s chosen pawn. They struck Arjay violently and he took a step back, wincing in pain.

Still, he spoke, even as a swirling maelstrom of arcane power took shape all around him. An odd smile overcame his placid features. He felt a sense of exalted grace, as if he were anointed with sacred oil.

“I swear, grant me dominion over my own soul, I shall attain the four souls. I shall attain the sacred land. I shall return and make my own wish manifest! For I hereby enter into a contract with you, oh truest fallen of nobility, and accept all the flaws of creation!”

As he let loose the final words, the demon stared at him. It seemed perplexed, yet relieved, as a sigil appeared on his forehead then vanished.

Yukari was frowning but held her tongue. Although she’d been told by her demon about the powers it could bestow, of how the incantation determined not merely which powers a pawn obtained but also what fate, she still had no idea what had just happened. The incantation should already have been custom fitted to Arjay, yet he’d found new words to add.

It seemed miraculous somehow though perhaps it was quite blasphemous as well.

She didn’t know what the change meant.

However, both the demon _and Arjay_ knew.

Her demon stared at its pawn. “There is one last task before you may step upon the game board,” it said in a quiet voice.

Yukari closed her eyes and clenched her fists.

She’d been told of this cruelty as well.

One final ritual remained: the carving of the crest of blood.

 

* * *

 

In Gensokyo, the final preparations were being made on the magic array.

Patchouli floated high above the floor, her eyes half-open, blearily trying to complete a final check of the lines. Her vision had long ago become a bit blurry. Each minute she worked, she found it harder to see. The insides of her eyelids felt like extra coarse sandpaper and a fuzzy feeling in her head made it hard to think.

She was utterly exhausted but judged the array thankfully complete.

Below her, she spotted a familiar head-winged redhead. “Koakuma, come up here.”

The lesser devil glanced up and quickly flew to her mistress.

When she got close enough to see fine details, Koakuma flinched. “Eep! Mistress, you look terrible!”

Patchouli sighed but dared not close her eyes. She was battling weariness and showing it any weakness now would be her downfall. “Yes, I’m quite sure I do, but set that aside for now. You still haven’t heard from that Black-White rat, have you?”

Koakuma shook her head, her long red hair swishing. “Nuh-uh!”

Setting her hand against her chin, Patchouli pondered the array. “I would very much prefer she be here but I suppose there’s no helping it.”

“Nope! Marisa’s in the wind again!” Koakuma leaned in close to her mistress. As her oldest familiar, she’d seen Patchouli through the best of times and the worst. Right now, she couldn’t help but be worried for her. She reached out and gently touched her mistress’s cheek. “Um, do you want more coffee? You look awfully sleepy.”

Patchouli huffed and puffed out her considerable chest.

“I’m likely to pass out at any moment,” she said proudly, “but one more cup and I’ll turn into coffee beans.”

“Then we can toss you to keep trespassers away!” Koakuma giggled.

“That’s a poor joke,” Patchouli sighed and shook her head. “Tell Remi and the Red-White that we’ll try it tomorrow night.”

“Why wait? Aren’t they eager to start?”

The only reply she got was the soft snores of a magician.

 

* * *

 

“Carve a crest of blood?” Arjay sounded a bit concerned as he looked from Yukari to her demon. “Like in FMA?”

Yukari looked puzzled but the demon shook its head. “No, no, you just need to spill a suitable amount of blood,” it said in a relaxed manner. “Killing is optional, possibly preferable, but not strictly necessary.”

It snapped its fingers and a girl appeared in the stone room.

“See? This one was used for the other pawn’s crest and is still breathing.” It glanced down and chuckled. “Well, mostly.”

Yukari, her face suddenly bloodless, knelt beside the girl and applied pressure to her wounds. Immediately, her hands were soaked in red.

A demonic eyebrow rose. “You know her, little youkai? Small world.” It laughed and shook its head. “Don’t worry, her suffering is almost over! As soon as Arjay carves his crest, I’ll take care of her.”

Yukari glared at it. “Bastard. Alice is little more than a child.”

“Not one of mine,” it rolled its eyes, “and if you wanted to protect her, you should have been paying more attention. The Abyssal One likely picked her specifically _because_ of you.”

“What are you saying?”

“It’s just enforcing the ‘no outsiders’ rule in its own uniquely horrible way.’

Seething with anger and guilt, Yukari tried to force Alice’s wounds to close up using the faint flow of her youkai ability. It wasn’t much, but she could sense the boundaries of her wounds narrowing, healing the injury. She forced as much of her own energy as she could into the process, sweat pouring from her brow.

In the meantime, the demon handed Arjay a knife. “This obsidian dagger is your tool. Now, carve the crest however you please.” Its eyes went to the girl bleeding on the floor.

Arjay gritted his teeth, raised his arm, and slashed his own wrist.

Blood spurted out, gushing with every heartbeat.

Yukari was stunned but the demon was completely taken aback. Ashen faced, it tried to speak but could only open and close its mouth like a fish.

The blood from Arjay’s wrist splashed on the stone floor. It absorbed every drop, drinking each in as if dying of thirst. Slowly, lines began to appear in the stone. Red sanguine lines of blood took the shape of a strange series of symbols.

As she watched, Yukari saw the form of her demon’s sigil appear, exactly as it had been carved in the flesh of her hand. Unconsciously, she scratched at scarless skin.

When the sigil was complete, it glowed briefly, then faded as a candle in the wind.

Her demon breathed a sigh of relief. “For a moment I half expected . . . well, it appears everything is as it should be.” It stepped forward and placed a hand over Arjay’s wrist. Instantly, the arterial bleed stopped.

“Now then,” it snapped its fingers and Arjay felt something strange deep inside. “You’ve received all the power you can handle at this time. You are a vessel now, my pawn, and I expect great things from you. I want to wish you well on your journey . . . but . . . .”

The demon sighed as it started to turn toward Alice.

“First, I need to deal with the wit-”

“BARRIER ERECT: KYU-KYU NYO RITSU RYO! BY MY POWER, BE SEALED!”

-Instantly her demon, the demon that had dared to use her and to violate the very core of her essence, was surrounded by a wall of ofuda before the first word was finished. By the last word, the barrier was fully erected and completely impenetrable.

Yukari had been waiting patiently since she was first taken from Gensokyo. She’d waited for this single moment, when its guard fell, when it showed her an instant of weakness.

Now, she intended to press her attack.

Surrounding her demon, the slips of paper glowed with power, each inscribed with the necessary symbols for binding. All were infused with Yukari’s iron will. She had used her own blood to make their ink and prayed over them quite honestly.

Even when she’d lain in bed, her body tormented by her demon’s violation, she had been pouring every drop of energy that she could spare into these talismans.

She had precious few in reserve. Here at the turning of the tide, she had no intention of wasting a single ofuda. This fight, bought with her sacrificed pride and every second of the time she’d bided, had to achieve results. Unlike her second invasion of the moon, Yukari was alone.

Drawing one of her talismans, her eyes sharp and cold, she allowed herself a momentary smile. ‘Ah, even with so much hanging in the balance, I cannot help but feel completely amused by that expression.’

Her demon roared in rage and tried to strike at her, its face warping from the sheer hate it seethed with. As its fists met the barrier, it was struck by countless lashes of energy, its flesh ripped and torn asunder. Falling back against the barrier behind it, it wailed in pain as the same effect left its back a bloody mess.

Its eyes were fixed on Yukari and filled with hatred.

Arjay watched in amazement as she strode forward, ofuda in hand, chanting melodically.

Standing tall, she tossed her hair back with a shake of her head and squared her shoulders as if to take upon herself all the responsibilities of the world.

Her uncanny smile froze her demon’s soul.

Thus Yukari’s counterattack drew first blood at long last.

  
“Never interrupt your enemy when he is making a mistake.”  
-Napoleon Bonaparte

 

End of Chapter 4  
Next Chapter: Yukari’s Counterattack - Part 2


	5. Yukari’s Counterattack - Part 2

“I think therefore I remain. I remember and am alone. I, and I alone, dwelling in the depths of thought, surrounded by countless murmurs, continue to exist til death forgets me.”

  
Gensokyo’s breaking dawn cast rays of hopeful light on the Scarlet Devil Mansion but dark clouds gathered to the East. As expected as the rising sun was, a tense anticipation and uncertainty held sway. A strong scent of cherry blossoms wafted in the ever more violent winds as flashes of lightening crisscrossed the centers of the storm clouds. Bolts of lightening burst forth to duel with the sunlight.

Drawn toward the mansion, the incoming storm clouds moved against the wind. By the second, they drew closer, and began to circle it.

Within the mansion, the ritual had begun.

Patchouli had just finished lighting the seven candles representing her elements when Koakuma zipped inside. “Mistress! Mistress! We’ve got storm clouds!” As soon as she’d been acknowledged with an absentminded wave, the lesser devil flew out again to keep watch.

Inside, a cluster of Gensokyo’s more renowned residents floated over Patchouli’s head, watching as the ritual began to unfold. Among them, Remilia was nervously twiddling her thumbs when she noticed Reimu’s tense shoulders.

Sigh as she drew closer to Reimu, the youkai put her hands on her own slender hips, and shook her head. “This is going to be a long day, isn’t it?”

“Better long than short,” Reimu grumbled as she fidgeted restively.

“Ah, come on, Patchy isn’t going to blow us up!”

“. . . .”

Reimu’s silence was deafening. She was probably remembering _that_ time.

Sheepishly, Remilia grinned. “Well, probably not.”

“If she does, I’ll haunt you forever.”

“Hehe, everyone has a crush on me,” Remilia snickered.

Reimu stared at her, dumbfounded into stillness, but with a snort finally broke into a faintly amused smirk.

Beside her, Yuyuko beamed like the moon and chuckled.

“My, you two do so get along. I’m impressed you can be so light-hearted during such an important event.”

At the center of the room, Patchouli turned and glanced up at her audience. “My asthma is mild today, so I should be able to get through all of the necessary incantations by myself. However, to show you my best magic, I’ll need quiet so I can focus properly.”

Remilia put both hands over her mouth, her eyes sparkling.

In that moment, Reimu scanned the crowd, hoping for a glimpse of her friend Marisa’s face. ‘Where is she anyway? She should be here at the end, like always.’

To Reimu’s right: Remilia floated with her bat wings occasionally flapping; Sakuya the head maid hovered with silver platter in hand, covered in wine glasses no one trusted, with a relaxed expression; and Hong Meiling, who looked vaguely seasick, was held up by two flying fairy maids.

On her left: Yuyuko hovered gracefully, her serene smile and calm eyes fixed on Patchouli; Youmu Konpaku, the dedicated ‘gardener’ of Hakugyokurou, floated next to her with her spectral half curled around her; next to them Chen swished her twin tails back and forth in anticipation, like a cat eager to pounce on prey; and Aya Shameimaru, the uninvited tengu reporter, kept snapping pictures while grinning like a lunatic cat with a belly full of canaries.

“This scoop is going to redefine scoops!” she whispered energetically. “Bunbunmaru’s gonna sell like popsicles at a bonfire in the Hell of Blazing Fires!”

Reimu didn’t have the heart to tell her that Patchouli intended to confiscate her camera.

Down below, the magician beckoned Ran, Yukari’s shikigami and the most important part of the spell, to join her at the center of the array. Ran had been floating in a corner near the floor, her face determined but grim. With her nine tails up and twitching, she joined Patchouli, setting down at a precise marked point.

Patchouli took a deep breath, then let it out slowly, then repeated that several more times.

Ran frowned when the magician put a hand to her forehead while looking vaguely ill.

“I’m a little anemic,” Patchouli admitted with a faint smile, “but I’m sure I can manage with your help.” Her voice was uneven but confident. Beads of sweat were already gathering on her skin. She took a slow, deep breath. “I’m quite certain I can do this. Quite certain indeed.”

‘Are you trying to convince me or yourself!?’ Ran silently screamed behind her stiff mask of trust.

Nervously, she bowed and put her hands in her long sleeves. “Please,” she begged, “do whatever it takes to get Yukari back.”

With a nod, Patchouli took one last breath. Then she opened her mouth and began chanting, her voice taking on a completely different tone and timber. Every word carried with it a strange feeling of foreboding. There was a quality to her voice that seemed to scratch at the eardrum, as if there were a layer of sound just outside the range of human and youkai hearing. Patchouli spoke without taking any further breaths.

There were many lines to the spell. Each had to be spoken perfectly, without a single mistake, or the entire casting would have to be started over from scratch. The timing of delivery had to be perfection as well. _Patchouli didn’t have time to breath_.

As the need was dire, she employed a technique that allowed her to bypass her conscious mind and physical needs entirely, ensuring the first casting would be perfect. It had taken many hours to prepare to use the method but she hoped it would please her friend.

Remilia watched her closely and nodded sagely. “Ah, humans are clever sometimes. Even though they need chemical thought centers and other squishy bits, they can get around that weakness. Patchy’s putting the little thief’s ideas to good use.” Her whispers carried a teasing tone as she glanced aside at Sakuya.

The head maid handed her mistress a glass full of red . . . wine.

“How unexpected that her useless knowledge would prove so useful. I suppose even a bookworm can be of use sometimes,” she admitted with a smile.

“Sometimes,” Remilia agreed with a wink.

Down on the floor, Patchouli was fortunately completely cut off from the distractions of the outside world, and continued to chant without pausing for breath.

As she’d been instructed, Ran concentrated on her bond with Yukari, and felt a strange arcane energy unlike any she’d ever felt before gathering. It made her fur bristle down her spine. Since her body was serving as a conduit for a virtually unknown magic, Ran assumed there might be discomfort, but being the array’s core felt strange in ways she hadn’t expected.

She’d hoped it would feel more routine to have this strange magic flowing through her. Ran had handled such duties before for her master; shikigami existed to aid in such things.

This was nothing like assisting Yukari in her magic. It was a singularly unnerving sensation that enveloped Ran’s senses completely. Wherever her eyes fell, it was as if she were on the verge of seeing further, as if all were but a reflection on water and something was rising up from darkest depths to greet her. She sensed the reality beyond her own. What she’d thought of as the ‘real’ world was merely an overlay on something else.

Fear clawed at her heart. She didn’t want to see or know. Yet, Ran sensed Yukari beyond that veil. It took but the slightest push and Ran saw the truth of her world.

Countless swirling 1's and 0's. Electric digital code existed all around her.

It was inside the walls of the mansion. It was in the books. It was inside the flesh of her friends. Ran glanced down at her own hands and felt like throwing up.

Terrified, she forced herself to remain standing exactly where she was though her every instinct screamed for her to run. ‘Please, Yukari! I need you!’ Ran silently cried out for her master and friend, desperate for some reply.

The one she received was not the one sought.

“Whatcha doing, Ms. Fox?”

Ran froze at the voice from behind her. Her blood turned to ice. She dared not move or even breath for fear Death’s cold embrace.

“Oh no,” Remilia gasped, “what’s Flan doing out?!”

 

* * *

 

“Get Alice out of here!” Yukari commanded, her eyes narrowed as she faced down her demon. Her lips were curled into a smile so serenely sinister that he actually took a step back.

Arjay took one look and nodded. He feared that he would be attacked if he were unwise enough to argue with a pissed off youkai. Grumbling an apology under his breath for his nudity, he slipped his arms under the bleeding cosplayer and lifted her with a grunt. Almost instantly, his face reddened but his eyes were burning with determination.

He half-carried, half-dragged Alice away from the unfolding battle. As he passed Yukari, she gave him the faintest of bows. With a thought, she manipulated a boundary between them.

‘Survive this incident,’ she silently implored her new human friends.

The moment they vanished down a dark hallway and were out of immediate harm’s way, Yukari refocused her attention on her demon. It glared back at her, clearly enraged, but equally clearly unnerved by this turn of events. That gave her hope for victory.

“Have you no sense? You might as well be slitting your own throat,” it said quietly.

Yukari shrugged. She felt a bit fuzzy-headed but it wasn’t enough to stop her.

“Does your life mean so little?” it questioned.

“If I worried much over the risk to myself each time I needed to face an enemy, then I would most certainly have died quite some time ago.” Yukari flexed her fingers and focused her mind. With the ofuda barrier in place, she’d partially bound her demon’s powers, but only partially. Still, she could sense them clearly again.

The boundaries of all things, faintly but clearly, were her’s to command again.

What lay before her was an enemy that power had utterly failed to destroy once already.

This time would be different. It _had_ to be.

Yukari focused on reading her demon’s boundaries. She glared at it and sought every line, every fringe, every hint of even a minor conceptual difference. In their first battle, she’d been lazy. Expecting to find little more than the common physical boundaries of a youkai or human, Yukari had found what she’d expected and no more. Eradication of physical boundaries wasn’t enough in this case.

Her weakened senses were a concern but she prayed they were also enough.

Focusing intensely, Yukari found the demon’s boundaries as she’d seen them before. Then, she dove past that upper layer and discovered a hidden wealth of strange boundaries. Deeper and more complex than what she’d sensed in Gensokyo, they were certainly the cause of her earlier failure. ‘Now I see you,’ she thought with a merciless grin.

Yukari could hold the ofuda barrier indefinitely were she in Gensokyo. Here, she sensed that much of the power she would have relied upon was missing. Still, she could keep her demon contained for quite a while. There was no doubt in her mind.

However, it didn’t matter. Yukari was ready to destroy her master.

‘If I keep a calm head,’ she thought flippantly, ‘then resolving this incident should be as easy as calculus and combinatorics!’

 

* * *

 

At the mere sight of Flandre Scarlet, everyone panicked.

Several powerful youkai gasped in fear. Even Yuyuko’s eyes went wide. Youmu drew the long-bladed katana she used for ‘gardening’ as well as her wakizashi, taking a defensive stance as she flew in front of her mistress, even though it was pointless against _her_.

Even Aya was frightened enough to drop her camera, though she zipped down to catch it in a mad scramble, just barely avoiding breaking a line of the array.

“EVERYONE, FREEZE!”

Reimu’s stern command might as well have stopped time. The disordered group of onlookers heard the absolute will in her voice and didn’t even think of disobeying. On the floor, even Flandre, source of their sudden panic, went stiff and held her breath.

She appeared to be a simple girl, younger in appearance than her older sister Remilia, wearing a red and white outfit with puffy sleeves and lace on the edges. On her head was a big white mobcap with a red ribbon on the left side. Upon noticing her back, the illusion of normalcy fell apart, because two spindly bone-like aft-arms held up a collection of brightly colored crystals. They flapped slightly as Flandre blinked her red eyes nervously, setting the crystals to jingle a pretty tune, like surreal wind chimes.

Remilia floated down to her little sister.

“Flan, what are you doing here? You know you’re supposed to stay in the basement.”

Flandre didn’t answer. Silent, she stayed as still as a statue, except for the slight twitching of her leatherless wings.

“Are you hungry? Are you bored? Big sister is helping the Red-White now. We’re doing something reeeeally,” Remilia held her hands up and slowly spread them out as she stressed that word, “important right now. It’s super seriously _supremely_ important.”

Still, Flandre stayed silent and motionless. Her wings twitched, and the crystals clinked prettily, but that was all. Remilia noticed a very slightly tick of her eyes upward and followed that line of sight to Reimu. In an instant, her sisterly concern morphed into predatory protection.

“Shrine maiden,” Remilia’s voice was startlingly cold, “mind releasing whatever seal you’ve put on my little sister?”

Reimu crossed her arms, glowering. “I’ve done no such thing. She’s just childish.”

Turning back to her sister, Remilia raised an eyebrow. “Really? Is that it, Flan? Are you playing a game now? Big sister will be very cross if you don’t answer this time.”

Flandre relaxed and turned to Remilia, a big grin on her face.

“Did Flan win?” she asked with a giggle.

“Sure did, the prize is a one-way trip to your room!”

“Aw.”

Remilia waited but Flandre didn’t move.

“Are you going then?”

“The prize is really bad,” Flandre whined. Pouting, she frowned at Remilia. “Flan wanted to play with everyone so she came up to play but there was no one around to play with except the fairies so Flan played with them and broke them . . . Flan came to apologize.”

Remilia rubbed her temples. “Okay, you know you’re not supposed to play with ANY of the maids EVER. Not all of them can be fixed after you break them.”

“Flan knows the fairies can be fixed so Flan played as much as she wanted! Then Flan drew a pretty picture for you! Oh, then Flan played the statute game and won but she feels like she lost so Flan wants to go do something else.”

“So . . . you’re bored then?”

“Flan’s tummy is empty.”

“Hungry then,” Remilia sighed. “Big sister has a headache so go wait in the kitchen for a bit and Sakuya will come make you something yummy.”

“Flan had high hopes for you to make Flan something tasty. Flan is betrayed.”

Flandre made a childish face of irritation and stomped her foot. Fortunately, she didn’t put any of her power into it so the mansion barely shook at all. It didn’t disturb Patchouli or the array, though it did make Ran tremble a bit. Flandre sniffed, her face downcast.

Then she perked up instantly and smiled. She tilted her head and looked around. For a moment, she stared at Remilia uncertainly, then she laughed. “Ah, sorry, I don’t really need anything! I’m feeling a bit hungry though, so I guess I should go to the kitchen.”

Glancing around the enormous room as if she’d never seen it before, she seemed confused and nervous.

“Um, big sis, where am I this time?” she asked.

Remilia’s face softened. “That really big room we fixed up for emergencies. Here,” she reached out her hand, “if you can behave yourself, I’ll take you to the kitchen myself.”

Flandre took her sister’s hand, blushing.

“Was I . . . ? I’m sorry.”

Squeezing her sister’s hand, Remilia kindly said “it’s not your fault. I should have gone down to see you before now. I’ve been busy and neglected you again.”

Flandre shook her head and grinned warmly. “No, I’m really sorry. I’m always waiting for you but I’m not always . . . behaved.”

“Told you, it’s not your fault,” Remilia sniffed and wiped a finger under each eye. “Come on! Lets get a snack and then later I’ll tuck you in downstairs.”

The two floated out of the room as Patchouli continued to chant and everyone else let out their collectively held breath.

Reimu rubbed her temples roughly as she watched the Scarlet sisters leaving. “I’m going to need a long vacation after this,” she grumbled. “Yukari’s going to have to work hard to make this up to me.” A faint blush colored her cheeks and she smiled slightly.

Everyone else had returned their focus to Ran, who breathed a sigh of relief that the ritual hadn’t been disrupted, all of them unaware that Flandre’s art was on display in the room with them in an unnoticed corner.

 

* * *

 

If looks could kill, then Yukari would already be dead a thousand times over.

“Do not test me further, little youkai,” the demon snarled at her smiling face.

“How I do _detest_ that moniker.” Raising her hands, she used every ounce of her power and focus to tightly grip her demon’s essence. She closed her eyes. Inside, she let the core essence of what she was spread out from her soul and into the very tips of her fingers.

Breathing deeply, calmly, she explored its boundaries. It was vastly more complex an existence than she’d previously realized. Layered like the metal plates of a suit of armor, its boundaries rested upon each other, protecting its core existence. As she formed a mental image of her demon, Yukari held her breath resolutely.

Then she pulled and tore it apart on the fundamental conceptual level.

It screeched in pain. Its body writhed inside the barrier before it exploded like confetti. Only the echoes of its pain remained as its body faded into nothingness.

Not a drop of blood nor a blot of flesh remained. The creature was gone.

Yukari sighed and knelt down. She needed a moment to collect herself.

“That does it. This incident is almost over.” Wiping her forehead, she rose unsteadily to her feet moments later. Her body felt far more drained than she’d expected. Unlike her initial reading of it, her demon had been composed of far more boundaries than was typical. It had been, by far, the most complex entity she had ever unmade.

Yukari had had few occasions to kill using her ability. Those few were each uniquely desperate and necessary situations separated by numerous years. Though it was her fate as a youkai to target humans, and certainly she had once been a predator, the few times she’d had to fight other youkai were also born out of necessity. Each such fight had required her ability and all save one ended in victory for her. Now, though quite content to hunt this most dangerous demonic prey, she thought of the lives she’d ended before.

She frowned and pondered her past choices.

Few of her actions troubled her now. Yukari wasn’t one to dwell on errors for long, preferring to learn from them and move on, but a few still haunted her. Knowing her hands were soaked in red enough to dye an ocean, she still hoped to claim the moral high ground here.

Though her failure to notice even a hint of her demon’s true complexity from the beginning continued to puzzle her, she was quite certain its victory would have been disastrous for her Gensokyo. There were no doubts in her mind in that regard. Yet she kept mulling things over, unable to quite let go of the mystery that remained.

‘Should its boundaries not have been obvious? Was it shielding itself somehow? My abilities should have been greater within the Hakurei Barrier though. Why did I sense its true boundaries _here_ rather than _there_?’

Shaking her head, Yukari brushed her concern aside despite having a feeling she had forgotten something important. “I suppose it doesn’t matter now,” she said softly. Her carefully laid trap had been sprung and she’d beaten her opponent. It had all gone according to plan.

That would have to be enough.

 

* * *

 

Patchouli’s chanting droned on and on. The flow of words seemed endless.

Reimu was in awe of the sheer length of the spell required to activate the array. She supposed the preparation that had gone into crafting it paled in comparison to the setting of the Great Hakurei Barrier but that was before her time. She’d never personally seen anything on this scale before and she had a suspicion that Sakuya’s time manipulation had played a role in greatly reducing the outward appearance of how long it had taken to set up.

The array had just begun to glimmer, which Patchouli had said would be a sign the spell was nearing completion, when Yuyuko tapped Reimu on the shoulder.

“Eh?”

Yuyuko leaned in very close. In a soft tone, she said “I’m a bit surprised at you.” Before Reimu could do more than look puzzled, Yuyuko asked her a startling question. “Even if you’re friends with her, when most humans wouldn’t mind if Yukari vanished forever, isn’t it still a shrine maiden’s duty to _exterminate_ youkai rather than rescue them?”

Reimu looked away, frowning. “Only when they run wild,” she muttered. Almost as an afterthought, she whispered “I prefer peaceful days. I have no quarrels with your kind.”

“My kind? Hmm,” Yuyuko raised her eyebrows slightly and tilted her head, smiling all the while. “What exactly is my kind, I wonder?” She put a finger to the side of her jaw. A teasing gleam in her eyes, she drank in Reimu’s momentary confusion before waving away her own words. “Oh, well, I suppose that doesn’t matter much at all . . . does it?”

“Please stop asking so many questions. I appreciate the attempt to distract me but I’m a nervous wreck right now.” Reimu rubbed her temples roughly as she spoke.

Yuyuko shrugged. “Well, it was worth it, I suppose.”

The phantasmal princess’s smile fell away.

Fiddling with the edge of her sleeve for a moment, she glanced down at her slender body. Today, she was dressed in a ceremonial blue kimono covered in designs of butterflies and flowers. It hid her curves well, perhaps too well, and when Yuyuko looked back at Reimu she felt a pang of emotion she dared not name.

Her ghosts circled her head restlessly as if to indicate the state of her heart.

“Tell me . . . .” Yuyuko started to speak but her voice trailed off.

“Mm?”

“. . . you’re quite concerned about her, aren’t you?”

Reimu didn’t need to ask who. “Of course, aren’t you?”

Yuyuko smiled. “Honestly, I have complete faith in her. I expect her back at any time, whether we do this or not. Really, all of this worry seems so unnecessary to me. I’m quite comfortable waiting for her. I have faith.”

Her frown deepening, Reimu said “sorry if I’m impatient then.”

“No, I admire your . . . spirit,” Yuyuko sighed as she found a safe word to speak. Though her face betrayed nothing, she’d begun to rub the silk of her kimono sleeve between thumb and forefinger of her left hand. The growing friction was enough to make her fingers irritatingly warm. Carefully, she forced herself to make an admission. “Or rather, I admire your bonds of friendship. She and I have had . . . difficulties . . . at times.”

Rubbing her kimono sleeve faster, Yuyuko kept her smile firmly in place, and Reimu smiled as well. But the human girl’s smile was a very genuine and soft smile, one of a kind rarely seen on the face of a Hakurei shrine maiden.

It was so honest and open that Yuyuko’s own lips twisted into a slight frown.

“Actually, it has nothing to do with friendship,” Reimu admitted as she wrapped her arms around her chest. Eyes sparkling, she put into words what most everyone already knew. “Truth is, I’m completely, helplessly, in love with that crazy _lazy_ youkai woman. I’m _not_ here today as a shrine maiden,” she said softly, “I’m here as a girl in love.”

Chuckling sweetly, her cheeks bright red at her confession, Reimu almost couldn’t meet Yuyuko’s eyes any longer.

“Oh, I see,” Yuyuko said under her breath as she clenched her sleeve.

She beamed a great smile . . . and was sullenly silent as death.

 

* * *

 

Yukari turned away from the ofuda barrier, letting it fall to conserve what stamina remained to her, and anxiously chuckled. “Well, that was an ordeal,” she said as she set a hand to her forehead. “My bed is calling my name so sweetly, I daresay I must answer!”

Smiling, she relaxed her guard despite a faint unease. She had won after all. With her demon unmade once more, this time for good, there was no need for her to fear.

“Tis a shame, really. Had you known my weakness, you might have beaten me,” Yukari teased the dead. She twirled about and curtsied. “I’ll share a secret with you, my former master, but my only weakness . . . is nothing!”

She grinned and laughed.

Then she choked.

A hand and nothing more tried to crush her throat. Powerful fingers pressed hard, digging into her flesh, halting the flow of arterial blood to her brain. Yukari’s eyes flew open as she struggled to remove the disembodied hand.

Steadily, particles of some sort gathered and merged with the ragged edges of the assailant appendage.

In less than three seconds, her demon was almost wholly reformed.

Fighting to loosen its grip, Yukari managed to gulp in a few scant breaths. “It would seem you’re . . . rather more difficult . . . to kill . . . than I thought.” She gasped, struggling to pull in as much air as she could, even as it fought to strangle the life out of her.

As soon as it regained its second hand, it added to its grip on her neck.

“You damned fool youkai bitch!” it hissed angrily, “Do you even suspect what will happen if I lose?!”

Yukari glared back and snarled “I! Don’t! Care!”

She didn’t.

She couldn’t.

She’d picked this fight and now she had to win regardless of cost.

Her demon squeezed her throat tighter.

‘I may have . . . miscalculated,’ Yukari thought as her vision began to fade to darkness.

 

* * *

 

Patchouli intoned the final words of the ritual incantation.

She opened her mouth and took several deep breaths in quick succession, almost passing out. The timely intervention of the ever on guard Koakuma was the only reason she didn’t collapse to the floor. The little devil was quick to zip up give Patchouli a shoulder to lean on.

“Mistress, are you sleepy? Want to go to bed with me?” she asked in a teasing singsong voice, giggling cutely.

“Yes, yes, but could you hold me up for a bit first?”

Patchouli looked around and saw that the array was charged with arcane power. Even to her experienced eyes, it seemed a grand sight. Every symbol gleamed in a different and ever-changing color. The rainbow of lights gave the illusion of movement, as if the magic circles were spinning records, the vibrant patterns ever shifting. As the changes in light happened they created a beautiful sight and, even having expected it, Patchouli found it breathtaking to watch.

At the center of the array’s core, the massive hexagram, Ran stood resolutely.

She stood for a minute.

Then another.

Another.

“Something’s wrong,” Patchouli muttered. Though much of magic at play was wholly new to her, she had many years of experience and vast sums of arcane wisdom in her head, and she felt certain of her expert diagnoses.

More to the point, she’d experienced a similar transference herself once before, so she knew precisely when that aspect of the spell should have been triggered. She glanced to Koakuma, who seemed equally concerned, and murmured “any ideas?”

Koakuma nervously glanced from her mistress to Ran, who was beginning to glare at Patchouli. “Should we flee far away?”

“No,” the magician said carefully after a moment’s thought, “but do fly higher. I need to check something.”

Koakuma nodded and flapped both sets of her wings quickly.

As they rose in the air, getting closer to the ceiling than Patchouli would have preferred, her vantage on the array improved. Squinting down at it, she searched for the problem.

Surveying the center of the array, the hexagram, Patchouli quickly found it perfect. Ran was precisely where she needed to be and every line was correct. Next, she looked to the outer circles. All were correct. Further out still, the ancillary symbols and matrices for holding everything together appeared quite proper indeed. Within every one, there wasn’t a single unlit candle nor any out of place.

She continued searching . . . and finally she found it in the farthest corner.

“Who drew that?! That symbol’s completely unnecessary! It’s delaying activation!” Patchouli cried out before remembering her audience.

At her irritated screech, Reimu and Yuyuko, with Youmu close behind, flew to Patchouli.

“Damn, it must have been Flandre,” Reimu said, biting her lip.

“Is it a serious problem?” Yuyuko asked carefully.

Patchouli ground her teeth and thought furiously. Although already worn down to the point that her head felt as if it were overstuffed with cotton, she focused intently on the problem at hand, and eventually shook her head. “No, this won’t put Yukari at risk nor will it prevent our rescue. As as long as Ran stays put and the familiar bond still-”

“AGAH!!”

-the cry of pain came from Ran.

Everyone turned to see her fall to her knees, hands going to her face. Covering her eyes, she screamed wordlessly until she had no breath left. As she gasped in air, Reimu flew as close as she dared.

“What is it?!”

Ran looked up. Her cheeks and hands were soaked in her tears.

“She’s dying,” Ran bawled.

 

* * *

 

“Shooting, cutting, stabbing, hitting, and I believe you once claimed that even _killing_ you was useless,” the demon laughed as he squeezed Yukari’s throat tighter. “Seems you’re not as good at logic as you are at common math. Even youkai die when they are killed.”

Yukari slipped a hand into her dress pocket, her fingers brushing the edges of her remaining ofuda. Even deprived of oxygen, she could count.

She had enough to reconstruct the barrier, just barely.

Now, all she needed was sufficient air to live long enough to do it.

Her peripheral vision was gone. Most of her view of the world was darkness. A small tunnel of sight remained, just enough to see a demon’s smile, which infuriated her enough to force her body to keep living.

Yukari manipulated the boundary between her life and her death.

Even under perfect circumstances it was risky and these were far from perfect circumstances. It wasn’t easy either as that boundary was already faded. Little separated her from discovering what sort of manners the shinigami of this reality possessed. Still, Yukari managed to affect the boundary enough to feel her life force growing in intensity.

Even using her ability, Yukari knew she could last only so long.

Her life was draining away bit by bit but it was draining without end.

Manipulating the boundary between her life and her death required all of her efforts merely to sustain her current life. If her demon used its trick to neutralize supernatural powers, she would likely perish in seconds.

She could alter boundaries but quantities were an entirely different matter.

The amount of life remaining inside of her was dropping far too rapidly for her taste.

Thinking of her Gensokyo, of her beloved Reimu, Yukari gritted her teeth and struggled in vain against the demonic death grip. She twisted and jerked in its grasp, lashing out with her last remaining reserves of stamina.

Despite her intent to put up a valiant resistance her demon was merely amused.

“Poor little youkai,” it said with a mocking grin. “It seems you’re bark and bite weren’t enough after all, bitch.”

Yukari redoubled her meager efforts but she was losing strength fase.

‘This would be a good time to be rescued.’

 

* * *

 

“BRING HER BACK NOW!” Reimu screamed as her fury and fear exploded. Seizing Patchouli by the lacy fringed cloth around her shoulders, she shook her violently, and Koakuma by extension. As the little devil clung to her mistress with tightly-shut, tear-filled eyes, the shrine maiden’s eyes were open as wide as they could be and spittle flew from her mouth.

Patchouli was stiff and terrified. She’d never even heard of Reimu becoming so agitated.

Sobbing, Koakuma kept holding her mistress up, her wings flapping desperately.

Suddenly, they were released. The sound of flesh hitting flesh rang out in the cavernous room. Yuyuko had grabbed Reimu’s shoulder, spun her around, and slapped her hard across the face with the back of her hand.

“Calm yourself,” the phantasmal princess chastised, “you’re being very undignified.”

The shock of her strike brought Reimu back to her senses.

“As for you,” Yuyuko turned and called down to the still sobbing Ran, “you should have more faith in your master. She’s far too clever, much too strong, and vastly too stubborn to die unless she _wants_ to do so.”

Ran bit her lip and forced a nod.

As Reimu rubbed her cheek, she stared at Patchouli, her eyes sharp and focused. It was clear what she wanted to know.

Fastidiously adjusting her dress with one hand, patting Koakuma’s head with the other, Patchouli said “the little sister’s addition is acting as an activation delay. I can’t speculate as to whether she was merely scribbling, or if she actually intended this result, but we’re fortunate that it didn’t prevent activation entirely.”

“Flandre did this,” Reimu huffed. “Remind me to give her a spanking later.”

“How long until it activates completely?” Yuyuko asked calmly.

Patchouli glanced back at the array. She looked at her fingers, counted silently, then scratched her head. With a huff, she borrowed Koakuma’s fingers. As her servant giggled, Patchouli said “perhaps . . . a few more seconds?”

“WHY DO YOU SOUND SO UNCERTAIN?!” Reimu erupted again, earning a tap on the head from Yuyuko.

 

* * *

 

Wheezing rapidly, his chest heaving, Arjay struggled to carry Alice any further. After going down one of several hallways leading away from Yukari’s fight with the demon, he’d taken several random turns, and now he’d reached a corridor that seemed to encircle his starting point entirely.

He’d carried Alice as far as he could. Unfortunately, trying to carry a limp girl any significant distance, even one who weighed as little as Alice, was nearly beyond him. Though his muscles still had strength enough his own fat left him too overtaxed to put them to good use.

His intention had been to carry her to safety.

Despite being about sixty pounds overweight, he’d managed so far, but he couldn’t go any further even if he weren’t on the verge of collapse.

After setting Alice down as carefully as he could manage, he practically collapsed to the floor, his breath rough and ragged. His heart was pounding unsteadily as he wiped waves of hot sweat from his brow. Gasping for air, he tried in vain to think, but his thoughts were unfocused. Fortunately, he didn’t stay overheated for long. The one benefit of being naked was cooling down quickly.

While he tried to catch his breath, he thought about his situation. The stone walls around him were part of a circular structure, a windowless outer ring corridor, and it seemed likely that there was no way to access the outside from there. He run down several hallways but all of them had been long stretches of bare stone. No doors, no archways, just endless repetitive blankness.

“There’s no way out,” he grumbled hopelessly when suddenly a spark of inspiration struck him. The thought was so strange that he instantly realized that Yukari had given him a parting gift.

He knew what she’d been told by the demon about his powers.

Glancing at his right hand, opening and flexing his fingers, he concentrated on the center of his palm. Almost immediately, a small spark of light came into being. It was a swirl of energy completely alien to his own reality.

It was the makings for a portal. He knew how to use the power.

“Thanks Yukari,” he whispered reverently.

Raising his hand, taking a sharp breath, he cast the portal power outward. A gash in the barrier between reality and fiction, between his world and another, appeared.

It spreading open quickly, the portal to another reality becoming little more than an electrical ridge around a circular view, and Arjay looked through it to the other side.

He saw gleaming red and black eyes, blood soaked lips, and pink hair. A body lay at the feet of a woman dressed in an outrageously tight outfit. “What the hell?!” the obvious vampire shouted, falling backwards in stunned amazement, her pink twin tails and large breasts bouncing.

After sharing a brief moment of mutual surprise, Arjay gave a little wave-“H and G, Megumi,”-before breathlessly closing the portal.

Part of him had doubted but now he knew for certain. It was all real.

Arjay opened another portal as soon as his breath came easier.

Beyond the edges of energy, he saw fire and destruction. Enormous mecha machines were battling hideous insect creatures. The machines seemed woefully underarmed, carrying huge rifles and little else. As he watched, a monstrous cross between a cricket and a dragonfly plucked a screaming child off the ground and gruesomely devoured her. Then he watched as it’s head exploded in a hail of blood and bone.

He recognized that world too.

“Oh, hell no, not the Blue.” Arjay closed that door and knocked upon another.

This time, he got a quiet nightscape of a peaceful looking street. He waited a few minutes, saw nothing more than a stray cat, before finally nodding to himself. “Guess this one’s good enough,” he muttered.

Arjay picked Alice up and heaved her through the portal.

He was about to step through himself when he felt something. It was like a twinge in the back of his head, except it wasn’t physical. It was a mental pain.

Something was very wrong.

“Yukari,” he whispered her name and knew without knowing why that she needed help.

Tainted by the dread passing through him, Arjay started to turn around, then stopped. He froze up. Part of him wanting to flee. The rest wanted to turn back the way he’d come. Turning back meant choosing to stay and fight the demon; it probably meant death.

His heart was pounding so fast his chest hurt. Naked and unarmed, what good could he even do? That thought ripped through him, froze him, and set his mind racing. Glancing at the portal he’d opened, still wide and swirling, Arjay made his choice.

It would be easier to run away . . . .

 

Yukari’s thoughts were becoming disjointed, broken.

Flashes of the past filled her head. As each memory replayed behind her bulging eyes, Yukari knew she walked upon a scythe’s edge, that she was fast approaching a death completely different from that brought by shinigami. She felt not her body shutting down but something deeper and primal.

Still, she struggled against her demon’s grasp, kicking at its shins.

It held her aloft, her throat all but crushed in its powerful grasp.

Eventually, her feet stilled. Her body ached for oxygen but her brain was increasingly calm. Death was not what Yukari feared most. Even this strange death in another reality could not fill her with terror.

It was forgetting that frightened her most.

Allowing gravity to take its victory, she closed her eyes and focused on the memories she wanted to carry with her into the darkness. Memories of soft red, of soothing red, of sensual red. Even if her soul was drawn away to whatever afterlife existed in this other reality, she wanted to remember love.  
  
Yukari stubbornly refused to accept death but she embraced her memories of Reimu.

One in particular ensnared her: the stolen first kiss.

She’d acted partly in jest but more so out of fear. Fear of feelings fading and being lost, fear of being alone, and worst of all the fear of hope itself.

Back then, just after Yuyuko’s incident, her resolve was wavering.

‘I was such a fool then,’ Yukari thought as her heart slowed and began to skip erratically. ‘I already knew that girl was gone, just a forgotten memory, but I foolishly convinced myself Yuyuko was still . . . that there was still some hope she’d . . . .’ Her thoughts trailed away as her hands fell limply at her sides.

There were memories that couldn’t be taken into death.

The phantasmal princess youkai would never recall her life as a tragically empowered human girl or the feelings she’d shared with Yukari. Accepting that harsh truth had torn Yukari’s heart apart and, seeking some small measure of comfort, she’d gone to see Reimu.

Without thinking, she’d asked Reimu a deceptively simple question. “What do you think of me?”

Of course, she’d expected the half-hearted sarcastic answer she got back. Yukari had known Reimu wouldn’t take the question seriously. How else could she dare to ask it?

Yet, knowing wasn’t accepting. In a fit of emotion, Yukari had reached out and touched Reimu, pulling her close. She could never forget that first embrace. The feeling of warmth, the milky clean scent of skin, the faint perfume of hair, they were all indelible memories now.

“That won’t do,” she’d whispered to Reimu, leaning in and taking her sacred first kiss. How long had she drawn it out? Neither could know since both were equally stunned by her actions that day.

Then when Yukari finally drew back, her heart beating so fast she could scarcely keep herself under control, what possessed her to say those words? She still wondered herself. “Be more fearful. Fill your heart with hatred and loathing for me,” she’d said in a voice choked with raw emotion, “I don’t care what type of feelings they are . . . but fill your heart with thoughts of me.” What had her face looked like, what had it felt like to be in her arms in that moment?

Yukari wished she could go back and shake herself silly then demand an explanation.

Surely her beloved wasn’t so different. For a brief few moments, Reimu had simply starred at her, utterly stunned. Her lips, moist and inviting, had parted ever so slightly then closed firmly in a quivering frown. When Reimu shoved her away, taking to the sky an instant later, Yukari had immediately regretted her actions.

Regret. Fear. Desperation. Yukari was their companion and prisoner.

Much later, Reimu found her, and they’d talked as if neither had ever really spoken to the other before that moment of madness. From then on, shrine maiden and youkai became something more deeply intimate than either had expected possible.

Yukari remembered red even as her demon drove all other light from her eyes.

What she’d said to Reimu that day, in that moment when she’d honestly revealed her heart to her, remained her desire even now.

“Let me feel such fierce emotions . . . that I would be able to take them with me to the other side.” Yukari’s own words echoed in her brain as the final sparks of her consciousness were extinguished one by one.

‘I’m going to die in this other world,’ she mused to herself. ‘Funny, it doesn’t hurt.’

She thought her eyes were closed though they were actually wide open, her glassy stare pleasing to her demon. It laughed triumphantly as Yukari’s heartbeat stumbled.

Then it screeched in pain as Arjay leapt onto its back and clawed at its eyes.

Tossing Yukari aside, it tried to grab him, but couldn’t manage it at first. Arjay was biting and clawing at its head while swinging his body and dodging its claws.

“You damned lard monkey! Get off of me!”

Caught off-guard, it struggled to comprehend this sudden intervention. It had expected Arjay to fight back eventually but with a ‘learning curve’ of sorts. It thought he seemed the type. Even after the empowering ceremony, it had still expected him to fear battle.

After all, the reality of a fight differed significantly from the fantasy of it. In person, even opponents that could easily be defeated were terrifying. Weapons, magic, or barehanded melee brawling, it drove the blood to race. The fear of death and loss ensured that.

The stench of sweat, the taste of blood, and the feeling of a life and death struggle. It was exhilarating but also disturbing. Certainly it was all very frightening for most humans. Even the demon was frightened by it at times.

That was why it could scarcely comprehend this turn of events.

Arjay entered the fight without any weapon besides his bare hands. He’d cast aside his fears the moment he saw Yukari go limp. He had no illusions about winning. Still, he managed to dig his fingers into one of the demon’s eyes, tearing it and drawing blood.

Even empty hands were tools for killing. Arjay intended to do as much damage as he could before the end.

The demon’s rage burst along with its eye.

“ENOUGH!” it roared and finally flung Arjay off.

With a violent crunch, he slammed into one of the stone walls. White-hot pain shot through his body, leaving him gasping. Blood began to drip from his lips.

Covering its mutilated eye, the demon tried to regain its composure.

“This nonsense needs to end here! I’m not the enemy, the Abyssal One is! Are you not my pawn and daemon? Why are my tools being so violently rebellious?” The demon shook its head. It cast a cold uncomprehending eye on Arjay.

“You have a job to do. You’ve already entered into the contract,” it sputtered in exasperation, “so you cannot refuse to play the game!”

Arjay barely managed to look up at it. His voice was a broken croak of its former self. “I’m not refusing to play. I am refusing to listen to _you_. Yukari’s the only one I’m siding with right now.”

The demon sighed. “Why must your species be so willful?” It shook its head and began to smile. “Fortunately, I rather enjoy training my . . . _pets_.”

It took a step toward Arjay-

-and a barrier of ofuda rose up and encircled it instantly.

Incredulously, it spun around and starred at a wheezing Yukari. Though she stood shakily, she stood tall, and that was enough. Her every breath was drawn desperately but already her body was recovering. With the struggle against death won for now, she could focus on healing . . . and fighting.

Face fierce and determined, Yukari was smiling again. With each new breath, she spat out her determination.

“Our . . . fight . . . isn’t over yet.”

 

* * *

 

“She’s okay! I can feel it, she’s recovering!” Ran cried out happily the moment Yukari began to regain her strength. Everyone else breathed a sigh of relief.

“Never doubted her,” Yuyuko said, trying to mask her embarrassed smile.

Reimu finally stopped glaring at everyone with murder in her eyes, at least until Aya snapped a picture of her. Sourly, she said “perhaps I shall prepare a roast chicken for Yukari’s ‘Welcome Back’ party. What do you think, Aya?”

“That I can fly faster than you,” she answered flippantly.

The tengu reporter flashed a carefree grin back at the glower Reimu sent her way. With a cheerful wink, Aya raised her camera again.

As she snapped away, Reimu fervently wished she could challenge Aya’s claim. Despite feeling irritated, her eyes softened as she felt ever more deeply hopeful about Yukari’s fate, so she turned to Patchouli. “Well, when will it finally activate? She’s obviously in danger.”

Patchouli shook her head.

Reimu stared daggers into magician, her glower having returned, and buried her face in the palm of her hand.

“Um, did I miss something serious?” Remilia asked as she floated back in, brushing cake crumbs from the front of her elegant dress.

Everyone stared at her in disbelieving frustration.

 

* * *

 

“Are you alright?” Yukari raspily asked as she offered Arjay her hand.

Shakily, shifting most of his weight to her, he managed to get to his feet. He could barely stand under his own power though so he braced himself against the cold stone wall stained with his blood. Seeing his discomfort, Yukari reached out, intending to ease his suffering through pinpoint healing.

Without thinking, he reached out and took her hand, the same one her demon had carved its sigil into. As he touched her, a spark of strange energy shot between them. It leapt from him to her and something strange happened inside of Yukari.

A wave of confidence filled her. Yukari turned glare at the demon. She could easily think of it as an enemy now. The familiar bond’s false ties between them had been severed, clearing her mind. It suddenly occurred to her that again attempting to use her ability to destroy the demon was doomed to failure. As if it had been waiting for her, an idea sprang to mind that was both vastly more likely to succeed and infinitely less pleasant for her enemy.

Yukari smirked at the demon’s fearful eyes. It knew she was free now. “Well then, how many times must I kill you before you’ll die from it?”

It snarled back wordlessly as it kept one hand over its injured eye.

Brandishing her ofuda like a sword as she faced it, Yukari spoke contemptuously. “I’ve seen through your schemes. Without that accursed familiar bond to cloud my judgement, all of your lies are clear. Your plot to escape the eternally vicious cycle of this demons’ game ends here. I won’t allow you to bring this world to further harm merely for your own reward.” Her eyes narrowed sharply as her face displayed every ounce of dark emotion she felt. “And for the crime of threatening _my_ Gensokyo, you shall pay a steeper penalty than any that strict Shiki would dare to give!”

“You don’t understand!” the demon screeched. “Damn you, why won’t you listen you sow of a youkai! I must win! I MUST! YOU WILL OBEY ME!”

Yukari arched an eyebrow. “I believe once more with feeling will be sufficient.”

Her fingers forming the proper hand seals on pure instinct, Yukari called forth all the power she could manage.

“RIN!”

“PYO!”

“TO! SHA!”

“KAI! JIN!”

“RETSU! ZAI! ZEN!”

Yukari chanted each part of the kujin mantra with great insistence as she made the nine cuts, adjusting her timing to achieve the proper result. Then, feeling particularly nasty, she invoked an even fiercer force.

She cast the talismans at the demon, her hands immediately forming another hand seal, her lips taking an O-shape. Eyes shut, she used memories of long ago to aid her.

“Om,” she chanted simply, calling out to one of the gods with her prayers.

As she released the ofuda, they swirled about to form a triangle before the demon. It glared at them and bared its teeth. It was an impotent gesture. It could do nothing to counter Yukari’s Onmyodo attack before or now.

Electricity danced as storm-cloud-like mists began to form within the barrier. Its head darted here and there, its eyes widening.

Yukari had just rung the dinner bell.

Her simple addition to the nine cuts was an invitation. Her invocation had set the table. Now, something powerful was drawing near to partake of the sacrifice she offered, eager to feast upon her enemy.

“What are you doing?!” the demon screamed in frustration. “Do you even begin to understand the depths of your foolishness?! You can’t let _them_ know of this world!”

Yukari paid it no mind and continued to chant the same syllable over and over, her mind’s eye fixed upon a single familiar deity.

The mists surrounding the demon took on an ever darker nature. Flashes of light, tiny lightening bolts, filled them. Orbiting the growing storm, and the demon gnashing its teeth, the circle of ofuda contained it even as divine power began to be unleashed.

The second cluster of three ofuda shifted in midair from a triangle to a starlike pattern.

There was no escape.

The demon was bound and fixed in place by Yukari’s incantations.

Blood continued to flow out of its ruptured eye to drip down its face. It grit its teeth and glared at her. Slowly, it began to sense the magnitude of what she was summoning.

Yukari wanted to enjoy this moment, perhaps with a bag of popcorn, but nothing could distract her from her chanting.

Keeping the pressure on, sweat beading on her brow, she built the flow of energy. Her breath came in sharp gasps. It wasn’t as if she were in Gensokyo, where the Great Hakurei Barrier itself could aid her in focusing mystical energies, nor could she draw upon the power of her shikigami.

Yukari was alone. Even the god she’d summoned no longer remembered her name.

She fought alone, had to win alone, or she would most assuredly die alone.

“Keep it up, I think we’re winning!”

She glanced aside at Arjay. Still unsteady on his feet, and despite being naked and bloody, he gave her the thumbs up sign. In exchange, Yukari flashed him a kind smile.

‘Right,’ she thought warmly, ‘I’m not truly alone here. I have an audience to please.’

Yukari reached inside and drew on her deepest reserves of strength. Even as her body ached and her heart thundered, she seized ever more power and directed it at the demon. With one final burst of energy, and a shout of triumph, she at last brought forth a god.

Lightening flashed, barely contained by the ofuda barrier, as a raging micro-tempest tore at the demon’s body. It writhed in pain and shouted in rage while the storm grew and grew. Yukari felt twinges in her nerves as its power ebbed and flowed ever more erratically. She sensed the shifts now with all five of her senses.

Her entire body knew the demon was dying.

Its face twisted ever more plaintively as it was jerked about by the forces striking it.

It began to wail miserably.

There was no doubt her attack was having an effect but she didn’t dare let up. Yukari poured all of her strength into the technique, continuing her chants and adjusting her hand seals periodically. She closed her eyes, focusing all of herself on a single image, and used all of her power to perceive the demon’s boundaries in full. With her iron will, she commanded the god she’d brought forth to destroy every trace of the demon from existence.

Sweat poured down her face and glistened on her bust. Her heart pounded ever more furiously. Fingers cramping, hands shaking, she kept going. Pushing through the strain, Yukari kept attacking, but not so she could survive. Her desire to live, to see Gensokyo again, was utterly eclipsed by one absolute desire.

As her vision suddenly grew dark, she felt calm and peaceful. ‘I will remember everything, Reimu,’ she thought as she fell into the darkness, ‘and I will see you again.’

 

* * *

 

“This tastes soooo yummy!”

In the Scarlet Devil Mansion’s main kitchen, Flandre giggled and grinned as she spooned ‘cherry’ pudding directly into her mouth from the carton. Happily, she liked her lips and savored the rich coppery taste. “So good! It’s the very best ‘cause big sister gave it to me herself!”

Several empty cartoons were piled on the table in front of her, their red goo coagulating slightly as it dried. A small stack stood beside Flandre, teetering precariously, as she gulped down spoonful after spoonful of crimson pudding.

As she finished off another entire carton, she belched in contentment.

“Urp! Flan sorry, Flan not mean to burp.”

“That so?” asked someone from behind her, “well, it was an epic one so points for not tryin’ and still bein’ that good at it!”

Flan turned around at the familiar voice and grinned. “Ah! Hello! Did you come to play with Flan again?”

 

* * *

 

Yukari’s eyes fluttered open.

“What just . . . oh, dear,” she chuckled ruefully, “I passed out, didn’t I?”

Looking up, she met his kind eyes, grateful that he was still there. Arjay’s face was a mask of worried concern. Held in his lap, her head throbbed with pain. Also, she could feel . . . well, setting that aside, Yukari noted his expression and smiled. “Has Susanoo-no-Mikoto feasted to his contentment?”

“What?”

“I summoned a particular god who owed me a favor. Is it finally over?”

Arjay glanced over at the ofuda barrier. It was still erect, still draining Yukari’s energy.

It was also completely empty.

“Maybe,” Arjay said, unwilling to pretend certainty.

Yukari closed her eyes and breathed in slowly, letting her mind wander about. Her thoughts sought the edges of boundaries around her. There were countless different ones; each unique and easily told apart if one were quite studious about learning which was which.

There were subtle and minute variations to be found in each one. Even with her limited interaction with this world’s boundaries, Yukari easily sorted them out. Others with her gift might have struggled but her years of experience, and knack for math, made the difference. She ran a series of quick calculations. After double-checking the results, she knew which had equivalents in Gensokyo and which were wholly new to her.

Carefully, she let her thoughts and senses caress the unfamiliar. Soon, she had intimate knowledge of each, and could identify the boundary with ease.

‘As it should be,’ she thought, ‘why was that beast so difficult to pin down?’

Opening her eyes, Yukari found herself almost nose to nose with Arjay.

Scooting away, his face going crimson, he sputtered out “sorry! I was _only_ checking to make sure you weren’t passed out again! I _absolutely_ wasn’t thinking of kissing you, not even on your forehead!”

Sitting up, she giggled teasingly. “If you wish, you’ve earned a kiss,” she said kindly. Yukari inclined her head in respect. “Thank you for before.”

Arjay grinned sheepishly, adjusting his glasses. She guessed they had been damaged at some point in the fight with the demon. They weren’t quite straight anymore and kept slipping down his nose as he watched over her. It made him look slightly ridiculous.

Yukari laughed softly but waved away Arjay’s questioning look. “Here now, help me up,” she commanded gently.

Using Arjay as a makeshift ladder, she stood, and then pulled him up with ease. A youkai’s natural healing was more than enough to recover from most wounds but she also unconsciously manipulated the boundaries between her usual self and her worn and torn self. It wouldn’t be long before her body fully recovered.

Once again, still suspicious of the demon’s proven ability to regenerate from nothingness, Yukari sought the boundaries and their limitless wisdom.

She found not a hint of her enemy.

“Hah, I believe this cruel game is over at last,” she said with a sigh.

“If it’s over, can I get some clothes? Please?”

Yukari looked Arjay up and down appraisingly. As he suddenly rushed to cover himself, she smiled teasingly. “Hmm, well, I’ve already seen _everything_ but if it eases your mind then please find some.”

With a dejected expression, still trying to keep some shred of modesty intact, his shoulders slumped. He bowed his head in her direction, turned, and started to walk away down one of the many hallways off the main stone room.

At the archway, he stopped.

“Is it really over?”

She thought for a moment before answering “I hope so.”

Arjay sniffed and frowned. He shook his head and muttered something begrudgingly to himself. Yukari barely caught his confusing words but immediately she thought her hearing had to be failing her.

“Plan?” she asked uncertainly. Doubtful she’d heard him right, tilting her head quizzically, Yukari started to ask “what pl-”

Without warning, something slammed into her from behind.

“-Aaaan!”

She flew past Arjay and crashed into the wall, caving in the stone and turning it to powder beneath her. Were she less resilient, a weaker youkai or a mere human, she would have died instantly.

Instead, Yukari coughed up blood and glared at the demon once again.

“You are becoming _quite_ a nuisance,” she huffed.

It stood before her once more but it also trembled feebly. Its eyes were dull, almost lifeless. They gleamed a sickly yellow. The human form it had used throughout their interactions had become frayed as well, like a child’s cheap costume. Hints of blackest shadow seeped out from dozens of tears in its false flesh and its suit now appeared as if it had been run through a dryer lined with barbed wire.

Something crawled under its skin. A squirming mass bulged at the side of its neck, slowly working its way upward.

“You,” it growled hoarsely, “are dead.”

“Really? I think you protest too much.” Yukari raised an ofuda, her very last one, and stiffened her resolve.

The demon drew in a breath and raised its right hand-

In the space between heartbeats, Arjay chose his final fate.

-snarling “Anima Uua Lacerabis!” Its spell unleashed a spear of magical fire from its right palm. The flames shot across the distance between itself and Yukari in the blink of an eye. Just as her mind registered the attack’s likely lethality, it struck Arjay as he leapt in front of her, and she watched blue fire envelope him in an instant.

He screamed as it raged across his flesh, engulfing every inch, before his cries of anguish abruptly became silence. As his mouth remained open, screaming in silence, Arjay’s eyes rolled back into their sockets leaving only a blind white stare.

His chest exploded. At least, that was what Yukari thought was happening at first but there was no gore. Instead, a glowing orb flew out of his chest yet left no hole. Gleaming like a jewel, it cast rays of light in all directions as the fire swirled away from Arjay’s flesh and instead enveloped this new mysterious and undefined fantastic object.

Arjay began to topple, and as he fell Yukari witnessed something amazing. A spark of energy heralded the phenomena. Like curtains parting, a hole in reality opened, and Arjay fell backwards into it. Amid the swirls of electric energies he vanished into the dark void beyond.

Just as the portal began to close, the glowing orb that had come from his body, which now burned with demonic fire, was crisscrossed by lines of black light. In an instant, it shattered into four pieces, which each then shifted form to become four perfect luminescent spheres. They flew through the open portal, drawn by forces beyond her comprehension, and vanished along with the grievously wounded human.

In an instant, the portal sealed itself, and reality was made whole again.

The stone chamber echoed with a sound not unlike a human heartbeat.

Stunned, Yukari reached out.

She tried to manipulate the boundaries between her and Arjay.

She could not find them.

She pressed her hand against her face as a wave of understanding passed over her.

The imperceptibility of the boundaries between herself and Arjay triggered clarity enough for Yukari to reach an epiphany. What she’d witnessed was likely the result of fusing her gaps with Drosselmeyer’s power. The implication was obvious: that fusion had created a form of transfictional reality travel independent of the demons’ own methods.

 _His_ power to manipulate reality through stories.

 _Her_ ability to sense and manipulate boundaries of all kinds.

Combined, they created a new power to open portals between realities, a power that pierced the boundaries of realities regardless of their nature as true or fictional. Yukari’s ability alone was _completely incapable of that_.

Instantly, she was struck with horrified understanding.

The sickening fear that had haunted her, that her Gensokyo might be a fiction, seemed confirmed. She thought she understood the underlying principles of the game board now. ‘If my hypothesis is correct,’ Yukari thought desperately, ‘then this portal power is intended for more than simple travel between realities.’

Her mind worked at a furious pace, even for her great intellect, and unimaginable possibilities began to collate in her brain. She focused on those as she tried to ignore a stabbing pain of guilt inside her.

‘As I feared, that writer’s power is the key to it all!’ she thought in annoyance. ‘I’m certain this goes beyond merely the power to move between realities. The pawns would need more than that to . . . he would need . . . damn it.’

Yukari could no longer avoid thinking about what she’d just lost. Extreme irritation shot through her as she saw the demon out of the corner of her eye.

“What did you do?” Her voice was barely a whisper as she turned to her tormentor.

The demon was staring, its eyes bleary, its voice trembling.

“My pawn. Why did he . . . he’s broken now. How can I play with a broken pawn?”

‘He’s dead,’ Yukari thought sadly. ‘A foolish choice but heroic nonetheless.’

She wasn’t certain what came next. Was the demons’ game now over before it had ever truly begun? If her theories were right, then her Gensokyo was still at risk. ‘I’ll have to find the other pawn,’ she thought and instantly felt a gnawing guilt.

Still, there were other possibilities. If she were wrong, and the demons’ game could end at their whim, then she would have to make the most of her final moments. Dreading the worst, Yukari raised her ofuda to bleed an answer from the demon.

Before she could start, she felt something change.

A pull, very distant, and a kind emotion reached her. Warmth filled her, as if she were being gently embraced. Yukari closed her eyes and smiled, knowing that this incident was almost over, and wondered how much longer she could fight against fate.

As a sound like ringing bells filled the world, defiantly tossing her final ofuda at the demon, Yukari broke apart into countless flower petals and vanished with the last bell’s toll.

 

* * *

 

In Gensokyo, from the heart of the storm clouds over the Scarlet Devil Mansion, an enormous lightening bolt shot downward. It passed through roof tiles, floor boards, and everything else it encountered leaving neither spark nor scorch in its wake. It wasn’t affected by anything in its path. Moving freely, as if through empty space, nothing was affected by it either. Only when it reached Ran did the lightening react.

What it did was incomprehensible to most everyone who saw it.

The bolt of lightening shattered like glass the instant it touched Ran’s hair, harmlessly scattering in a thousand different directions, each spark energizing the array further. An intense aura of magical energy caused a distortion of light and sound.

Suddenly, a whoosh of air filled the room with a blasting gust of wind. A flurry of flower petals appeared from nowhere as the sound of bells ringing filled the room.

At that same moment, a brilliant flash nearly blinded everyone present.

Koakuma flew in, grinning.

“Mistress! Mistress! The Bolt from Beyond came! Was it a good thing?”

Rubbing her bloodshot eyes, Patchouli breathed a sigh of relief. “Ah! It finally activated,” she said with a yawn, “thank goodness. I need a _very_ long nap.”

“Mistress! Should I take you to bed?” Koakuma batted her eyelids suggestively.

After earning a soft bop of rebuke on the head, the impish little devil flew off laughing.

Patchouli collapsed into the comfy beanbag chair Koakuma had helpfully brought without anyone noticing. It felt wonderful.

At the center of the array, surrounded by a fading glimmer and the scent of flowers, Ran held her master’s hands. She wept uncontrollably. Sobbing, she collapsed into Yukari’s uncertain arms, both of them falling to the floor. Yukari gently patted Ran’s head and held her close. Ran nuzzled against Yukari’s ample cleavage.

“There now, I’m fine. Here, listen,” she pressed Ran’s ear tighter against her breast so the sound of her beating heart’s song could be heard. The sound almost lulled her shikigami into an exhausted sleep. Between her drooping fox ears, a loving hand scratched the best spot possible, causing her nine tails to flip and flop softly.

Yukari smiled, a hint of bitter sadness in her expression. “You’ve had to be very brave too, haven’t you?”

All around her, the others drew close and happily expressed their relief.

“Hehe! Nice to see you again, Gappy,” Remilia said with a watery wink and a grin.

“Indeed, we’re quite honored by your presence,” Sakuya spoke as she curtsied.

Behind her, the fairy maids hovered with Hong Meiling between them, “urgh, I hate flying,” she moaned. “If this is over, can I please take a nap too?”

As that request went unheeded, Yuyuko knelt beside Yukari. She gently took her friend’s other hand, squeezing it tightly. “Are you well, my old friend? Did you prove yourself against whatever random omnipotent fool dared to bother you?”

“Yes and not yes,” Yukari replied with a self-deriding chuckle.

Youmu leaned down and whispered something in her mistress’s ear. “Oh? Yes, I almost forgot . . . ,” Yuyuko murmured, smiling serenely. “Forgive me, Yukari, I’ll only be but a moment.” Rising, she left the room with her faithful retainer close by, Youmu staying a few steps back and to her side.

Aya swooped in and snapped a picture of Yukari and Ran. “This is such a great scoop! I can’t wait to publish every detail! Ooooh, and I’m titling this picture: Stockholm Syndrome!”

“Don’t you dare!” Ran bawled as Aya cheerfully giggled and flew out of the room.

Patchouli was too busy napping to take her camera.

Chen leapt up and down, cheering and meowing. “Yah! Hooray! Master’s master is back! We can go home at last!”

Yukari glanced over at the only person who hadn’t come running or said a word so far.

Standing off to one side, shifting nervously from foot to foot, Reimu was blushingly staring at her. She clearly wanted to come closer but perhaps her stubborn pride had reasserted itself. ‘So adorable,’ Yukari thought as her heart beat just a little faster.

“Hello there.” Yukari smiled as she reached out with her left hand while her right cradled the still happily weeping Ran’s head.

Reimu stepped forward, knelt, and took the offered hand to squeeze it against her cheek. Even through the youkai’s gloves, the warmth of Yukari’s skin reassured Reimu. She felt her pulse quicken. Her eyes shimmered with withheld tears.

Still, she refused to give in completely.

“Why do you always do this?” Reimu asked with a huff. She leaned in closer, letting herself breath in Yukari’s sweet scent, like pure water mixed with flower petals. “You’re never here when I want you to be, you’re never around at the worst times, and then you dare to smile like that when I finally see you again!”

“Sorry about that,” Yukari said teasingly. “I promise if you ask sweetly, I’ll stay close to you tonight. I’ll keep you _very_ warm.”

Reimu snorted even as she blushed a deeper crimson. Gently, she pressed her forehead against Yukari’s. Face flush, she grumbled “welcome back.”

Yukari chuckled. “I’m home.”

“I hope you’re prepared to take responsibility for all the stress you’ve caused me. I’m exhausted because of you,” Reimu’s voice slipped into a breathy tone, “I’m not going to want to leave my warm bed for a week.”

“Lazy head.”

“Shut up, idiot youkai.”

Each stared into the other’s eyes. Then both started to laugh softly. Ran looked up at her master, chuckling, a knowing smile on her lips.

Chen came over, purring and grinning.

“Are we going back home soon? Everything is okay now, isn’t it?”

Reimu frowned and gave Yukari a serious look. “Good question.”

Yukari shook her head. “A celebration . . . and perhaps a wake then we will discuss it. The moment I appeared, I manipulated the barrier to strengthen it against invasion, so we should be able to rest for at least a day.”

“What? You should tell me before you do that!” Reimu huffed, crossing her arms.

From the doorway, Yuyuko watched the familiar banter between Yukari and Reimu. She’d seen it _many_ times before. It was always uniquely painful though.

As youkai soothed shrine maiden with a smile, the phantasmal princess floated alone. She’d turned back, wanting one last parting word with her oldest friend. But now, seeing this, she clenched her sleeves, bit her lip, and forcefully turned away.

She ignored the dampness of her cheeks even as she wiped them dry.

“Let’s be on our way, Youmu,” Yuyuko said before departing.

Her loyal retainer stayed by her side, and wisely, said nothing at all.

 

* * *

 

Somewhere in the void between universes, cast adrift in an endless sea of realities, Arjay tumbled weightlessly. All around him, there were glittering sparkles of light. Countless crystal shards floated in the surrounding darkness. Each crystal was a world, a possibility, unto itself. He saw them, and for a moment sensed the beginning of understanding, but then his mind fell apart again.

He saw shooting stars. Four in all. They flew in various directions, each headed for a different crystal of possibility.

After that, he floated alone for an untold time, seeing not but the darkness. Agonizingly, he began to forgot himself. The demon’s last attack had left him burned, his mind in tatters, and there was something else as well. A deep sense of loss that he couldn’t identify. His thoughts were broken and scattered. His body ached in ways he’d never known possible.

Arjay thought of death. In the dark nothingness between worlds, did such a thing even truly exist? Perhaps the world was already no longer connected to him. Maybe all that he saw was simply a glimpse of what comes past life’s end.

Absent any proof either way, he knew nothing but the drifting.

No comfort was found in that absence.

No fear was found either. Even in the darkness, he still had light. He clung to an image as if it were a single thread binding him to the life he’d possibly lost.

Golden hair and purple eyes. A charming smile. Cleavage.

The fire inside his brain licked at that picture, scorching the edges, but he protected it with all his might. As best he could, he tried to resist the ongoing psychic damage, even knowing the battle was already lost.

<Help me,> he voicelessly cried out into the void.

As if responding to his words, a multifaceted crystal appeared before him. He wasn’t sure if it had come for him or if he had been drawn to it. Arjay gazed desperately into its depths nonetheless. The surface shimmered like water, becoming clear as glass, to let him peer into the realty contained within it.

Inside, a faint impression of an image took form and blossomed.

His point of view was like that of a god. He felt as if he were hovering overhead. Beneath him, he gazed upon a bosomy blonde woman taking a bath.

Her body was wrapped in a towel while she rinsed her arms in her bathtub.

<I think . . . I know her,> he blearily hoped as his sense of self finally deteriorated completely. His memories shattered and vanished into the ether. He could feel the short time he’d spent with Yukari being erased from his mind. The memories fractured again and again. Even the image he’d held so dearly burned away to ashes.

Clinging to a hazily remembered sensation of warmth, thinking that it would be nice to feel again, Arjay slowly began to descend toward the blonde in the tub.

  
“There are some people who live in a dream world, and there are some who face reality; and then there are those who turn one into the other.”  
-Desiderius Erasmus

 

End of Chapter 5

Next Chapter: Setting the Game Board


	6. Setting the Game Board

“At the end of the world, I would wish to be forgotten.”

  
Yukari opened her eyes to find the rustic charm of a familiar ceiling.

She’d returned the night before to her home, to the beautifully gilded cage of the Great Hakurei Barrier and its wondrous land of Gensokyo, haggard and exhausted. Despite having gotten little sleep, she woke feeling as if she’d already spent a week in bed.

Stretching as the sheets slipped down her bare body, she couldn’t help but smile quite happily. “A lovely morning in even more lovely company,” Yukari said with a cheerful grin.

Beside her, Reimu groaned. “Quiet you. Too early.”

Yukari chuckled as she left their disheveled futon. Dressing in purple and white, taking care to tie up her blonde tresses in many places with red ribbons, she started the day with simple domestic chores. Working in the Hakurei Shrine’s small kitchen was much more cramped than wasting time in her own but she was blissfully cheerful nonetheless. She managed to prepare tea before Reimu, wrapped in a sheet, finally stumbled to her side.

“Good morning!” Yukari happily proclaimed.

“Ugh,” Reimu shot back. “How can you be so energetic? I’m completely worn out.”

“He he he,” Yukari giggled sweetly then covered her mouth in mock embarrassment.

Sighing, Reimu shook her head and accepted an offered cup of tea. She sipped it and finally smiled, just a bit. “Do you take _anything_ seriously?”

“I try not to. Life’s more enjoyable that way.”

“Maybe, but . . . well, I guess that _was_ fun.”

Yukari beamed as Reimu blushed. She leaned in close, her breath teasing Reimu’s skin and senses. They shared an intensely wanting stare. “Weren’t you satisfied last night?” Reimu asked quietly as she found herself slipping her free hand around Yukari’s waist.

“Hmm, well, that was last night while this is a bright new day,” Yukari said casually.

Reimu’s face softened. “It is, isn’t it.”

“Indeed.”

“Well, you two are certainly getting along well.”

Yukari and Reimu jerked back from each other as if burned, each suddenly chastened in their desires. Tea was spilled but ignored.

“You’re in my shrine uninvited,” Reimu said in a measured tone, “explain yourself!”

Smiling stiffly as she held a parasol out to Yukari, Yuyuko said “here, you’ll need this.”

“Don’t ignore me!”

“Another incident?” Yukari asked, her words instantly refocusing Reimu’s attention.

Shrugging, Yuyuko tilted her head to one side and said “well, who can say but you? Either it is a new incident or a continuation of the same one as before.”

Yukari took Reimu’s hand and squeezed it. “Another time?”

Snorting in irritation, Reimu rolled her eyes and gripped Yukari’s hand very tightly. “Well, if its another strange incident, then I suppose I can lend you both my help. Give me a moment to dress and I’ll go with you to investigate.”

“Truly? How very . . . _nice_ of you.” Yuyuko bowed to hide her face, raised her head when she could smile very serenely indeed, and found Reimu now dressed and ready to go.

They headed for the human village with Yuyuko leading the way.

 

At the Scarlet Devil Mansion, Remilia sat in the spacious library, sipping red tea. She’d lazily spent most of her morning indulging herself. That sip brought her tea tally to four.

Setting her empty cup down, she couldn’t help but glance beside her at her oldest friend. Patchouli was sprawled out on a Chaise longue like a particularly lazy cat, a hardback book in hand, reading things Remilia doubted she could even begin to understand. Still, she was happy they could both enjoy a peaceful moment like this.

Neither was interested in doing anything interesting again for quite some time. The night before had been the end of several weeks of frustration and worry. Both wanted to relax.

“Hey, Patchy?”

“Mm?” Patchouli purred.

“You did real good last night.”

Patchouli smiled and continued to contentedly read.

Silence stretched between them again as Remilia picked up a little red velvet snack cake Sakuya had prepared for her. She made a motion of dividing it and, as Patchouli reached out for a share, something unusual happened.

Hong Meiling walked into the library.

“Mistress, there’s an odd visitor,” the front gate guard announced simply.

Remilia frowned at her. “Really? Don’t you usually just let those in? Who is it this time, the fox?” Setting down her cake, she hopped to her feet and put her hands on her diminutive hips. “I’m in the middle of not caring about the world’s problems right now so whoever they are they’d _better_ be important.”

The red-haired guard scratched her head uncertainly. “Well, it’s not always easy to tell who’s important and who isn’t without talking to you first. I can’t let _just_ anyone in but it’d be rude not to check if they’re welcome or not. You did tell me to be a friendly gate guard.”

“True,” Remilia admitted with a snicker. “So, who is it?”

“The village elder.”

Taken aback, Remilia looked to Patchouli, whose face was equally puzzled and surprised. Tapping her chin and thinking, the mistress of the Scarlet Devil Mansion carefully weighed the possible reasons for such a visit.

“Well,” she said after a few moments, “I haven’t done anything _lately_ that anyone from the village should care about soooo . . . I guess I’ll go talk to this self-proclaimed elder and see what he _thinks_ I’ve done.”

Before she could take a step, Meiling slammed her fist into her palm. “Oh! I almost forgot! That half-ghost girl is here too! She came with the human.”

Remilia rubbed her chin.

“Why do I get the feeling that’s _not_ a good thing?”

 

“That . . . is worrisome.” Unable to find better words, Yukari folded her arms over her ample chest in frustration, and puzzled over the enigma before her. She prided herself on being an intelligent and eloquent youkai. Being both at a loss of words and confused wasn’t something she’d experienced often in the past. Lately, it seemed she was developing bad habits.

Reimu leaned close and stared intently at the problem. “Has it ever done this before? Could it be one of those ‘sixty year’ things?”

Standing a bit back from them, Yuyuko sighed. “Are you two quite done yet? We’re gathering an audience and you’re making a scene.”

Yukari and Reimu looked up from the statue of the Dragon God. In the few minutes since they’d arrived in the village, a massive crowd of humans had gathered around, all of them staring. Almost every one of those stares was directed at Yukari, of course, and many were cold.

Famous for being herself, there wasn’t a human or youkai in Gensokyo who couldn’t easily tell her apart from anyone else, even if she tried to masquerade as a normal human.

A few glared at Reimu with hatred in their eyes.

That irritated Yukari so she frowned crossly at them and most everyone fled.

The few who remained stepped forward.

“I speak for the village in the elder’s absence,” an old woman with stern eyes said as she walked up to Reimu. “You are of the Hakurei, correct?” At Reimu’s nod, the woman’s lips curled into an even deeper frown, causing her already age-worn face to grow more creased and rough. “Of course you are.”

“Pardon, but do you know the cause of this . . . phenomena?” Yukari asked in her sweetest and most diplomatic voice.

The old woman’s eyes silently slid to Yukari, narrowing to thin slits, as her face twisted with distrust. Without a word, she glared icily. When she turned back to Reimu, she was trembling with fists white knuckled at her sides. “Shrine maiden of the Hakurei, you should do your job properly,” she said darkly, “as your mother before you.”

“Certainly. Please point me toward the _correct_ culprit behind this,” Reimu let her brow furor, “or will just any random _youkai_ do? Perhaps I should slay two for an even hundred?”

That retort earned her a satisfying jerk of the old woman’s chin. For a moment, she woman was speechless, but then she growled out “you have a sacred duty to our village. How disappointing that you put these . . . creatures . . . over fulfilling it. You may bear your mother’s role, but you lack her sense of propriety, _Reimu_ Hakurei.”

Without another word, the old woman walked away, her entourage following along.

“Crone,” Reimu grumbled.

“My, you seem to be well-known here,” Yuyuko said in a teasing tone.

“Shut it or I’ll do my job quite properly.”

Sniffing in annoyance, Yuyuko sighed. “It was a mere jest, I assure you. I do not find anything about this situation amusing. I’m not laughing, am I?” The ghostly youkai tilted her head and put a hand to her cheek. “Truly, I can’t think of a _single_ reason to laugh at you.”

Reimu rolled her eyes and turned to Yukari. “Please tell me this is another one of those ‘sixty year’ things.”

“I’m afraid not,” Yukari said as she returned to examining the Dragon God’s statute. “I’ve never seen it do this before.”

At that moment, the statue’s eyes were flashing. They were red for an instant, then they turned green, then purple, red, yellow, orange, red, white, grey, blue, red. They kept changing  
color ceaselessly. The shifting had a kaleidoscopic effect that made observers queasy if they watched too closely.

Yukari looked away from it, covering her mouth daintily.

“It is true,” she offered after a moment, “that the eyes can predict the weather. They can forewarn of certain kinds of incidents as well, but this is . . . nonsense really.”

“What is not nonsense in these troubled times?” Yuyuko blithely intoned.

“White typically means sunny,” Yukari muttered as she pondered the mystery. “Grey is for cloudy skies and blue heralds rain.”

Reimu stepped closer. “Back then, didn’t the eyes turn red when the Scarlet Devil started making trouble?”

“Yes, both times actually, as was also the case when Tenshi tried to move in with you.”

“I still find splinters sometimes. I should have finished her off completely for what she did.” Reimu pointed at Yukari. “Wait, didn’t you also do something to make its eyes red?”

“Ah, yes, well . . . that was really Yuyuko’s fault.”

“Huh?!”

Ignoring the phantasmal princess’s annoyed pout, Yukari and Reimu stared at the Dragon God’s statute together.

“Well,” Reimu asked after a minute of silence, “what do rainbow flashing eyes mean?”

Behind them, a voice rang out “oh, I suspect I can answer that for you.”

Yukari’s blood ran cold as Reimu and Yuyuko turned to stare.

“Who’re you?” Reimu asked curiously, thinking the man oddly dressed.

“Please allow me to introduce myself,” he said with a bow and a wink of his bulging orange eye, “I’m a man of quill and tragedy.” His voice dripped with playful malice as a mad grin formed on his face. His presence was palpable to Yukari even as she stubbornly refused to turn and face him.

“Call me . . . Drosselmeyer.”

 

* * *

 

The last normal night of Lucy Heartfilia’s life began as most any other night did: with a quick check for friendly guildmate trespassers in her apartment. Lucy had the routine down cold. She knew where to look and who to expect there.

Gray showed up the least often, almost always missing an article or two -sometimes three or more- of clothing, and generally waving as if his nudism were perfectly normal. Maybe he would be at her big desk in the bedroom, sneaking another peek at the novel she wasn’t writing, the one and only Gray.

Infrequent, but occasionally equally embarrassing, was Erza. Her actions typically involved blushingly examining lingerie that wasn’t her’s or making bold comments about teamwork. Once she had even complemented the pink walls with their circular designs. She’d probably be wearing something sexily cute or skimpy yet chaste. No guarantees though: full body armor was _always_ a possibility. Her clothes were pretty much unpredictable.

Then there was Natsu Dragneel, pink-haired and unabashedly grinning, whom she found most often in her apartment.

Sometimes Lucy found him sleeping in her bed, Happy the blue-furred cat snoring right next to him, and more often than not she let them stay there. Sometimes they would be exercising together, sweat shimmering on Natsu’s muscular arms and toned abs, distracting her momentarily, occasionally. She _never_ deliberately starred at Natsu’s shiny extra-exposed skin. Maybe he would be the one searching through her drawers or closet tonight. Lucy clenched her fist in anticipation, sparkles in her eyes.

Once she had even caught Natsu trying to sneak a peek at the novel she was most definitely not writing that had no romance and clearly the blonde heroine who stole all the men’s hearts wasn’t her.

No such novel was being written _at all_.

And she sure wasn’t hoping to publish it before turning 30!

Lucy felt comfortable. She’d learned long ago to accept the simple reality that her apartment, while a steal for the joule she paid monthly, was never going to be a lonely place. So she entered her home with one of her Spirits at her side and quickly searched all the usual hiding spots. It was a part of her normal everyday routine and, had anyone suggested it, Lucy would have denied that it meant anything special to her _at all_.

That night, she had no idea what was occurring around her. She couldn’t know.

Had she known that this night would forever mark the end of her tradition, Lucy would have drawn it out more, but she was blissfully unaware of many things. The duel between demons was not even a whispered lie upon the winds. She couldn’t be blamed for not beginning to believe in the ‘anime fans’ who had been watching her for so many years. Most importantly, she had no reason to suspect her weird reality was merely a starting place on a grand game board.

Lucy could not have known any of these things. She was simply living her everyday life as a member of the Fairy Tail wizard guild, enjoying her simple routines. Checking behind drapes, under furniture, in closets, and around a few other places in rapid secession excited her. She expected to find someone but tonight her room was curiously empty.

‘Huh, no one’s here.’ Lucy sighed in thought, pouted, but smiled at Plue. “Looks like we’re alone for once,” she said wistfully, “I wish I could come home without having to search the place for weirdos.”

Plue seemed to slightly nod in an almost imperceptible way that Lucy suspected only she could even notice and vocalized an adorable “uh huh.”

Resisting the urge to hug the little white bundle of adorable or recheck her apartment for company, weird or not, Lucy had an idea. There were other ways to catch a hidden friend’s attention. Maybe this one was sneaky but it was a little thrilling too.

Snickering on the inside, she started to slip out of her cute outfit, all the while waiting to catch a sign of an uncomfortable person in hiding.

“You know, I’ve been through an awful lot lately. I think I deserve a nice hot bath,” Lucy said more to herself than to Plue but louder than necessary. She quickly undressed, tossing her clothes on her bed, feeling lighter and freer as she shed her blue and white outfit.

The pink bedspread and sheets seemed a bit lumpier than the last time she saw them. Lucy stared at them for a moment before stretching her arms overhead, wincing at the stiffness, causing her bountiful breasts to bounce just a little before she sensually sashayed into her cozy but comfortable bathroom.

It was a game but she wasn’t sure if she’d won or not. Without an obvious second player Lucy simply worked a kink out of her shoulder, started to prepare a proper bath, and not-quite wished that someone had involuntarily revealed themselves to her.

The night sky peeked in on her from the left. A small potted plant kept guard against intruders from the window sill and another hung from the wall over the foot of the tub like a spy. Although having a way for others to see inside the bathroom occasionally made Lucy feel a little self-conscious, she loved being able to soak in her mortared stone tub while gazing at the stars.

It was simple but seeing the stars always gave her a feeling of closeness to her Spirits.

Lucy thought of climbing into the tub completely naked but she’d yet to try the soaking towels Levy had recommended to her. She picked them up from the stool near the sink and encased her hair with one of the pale green wraps then restrained her chest with a second.

She drew a hot bath quickly, clear water carried through the pipes of the left wall, then slid into the steamy wetness slowly with a sigh. A little moan of delight escaped her lips like a lover’s whisper. Heat soaked deep into her skin, the warmth spreading out and into her body, sending shivers of pleasure to her brain. The sensation was purely enjoyable despite the many traumas involving water Lucy had endured in her life.

Maybe that was even why the water felt so wonderful. There was something oddly comforting about water for Lucy, something that gave her a sense of connection to her strongest and angriest Spirit, Aquarius.

Still, Lucy was a little uneasy despite her seemingly carefree actions. The night air had felt off as she’d come home. It wasn’t the kind of feeling that she normally paid attention to. She’d completely failed to figure out what it was and that frustrated her just a bit. It wasn’t quite a premonition but rather a subtle and elusive sensation. Thinking back on it as she gently rubbed her towel-clad bosom, she’d believed that it meant she’d have company for the evening.

Yet, she was alone tonight. The little game of seeking without hiding an empty gesture for she had found no one. She wasn’t exactly worried but Lucy did need a little comfort tonight.

Sighing contentedly, enjoying the simple pleasure of the bath, she wondered if there might be a storm brewing outside. The steamy air around her felt almost electric and charged. She glanced at the pink towel that she planned to dry off with, ‘if a storm’s coming, I should get out quick.’

She swiftly abandoned that thought after a quick glance out the window. It was a dark but totally not stormy night.

Lucy felt peacefully cocooned by the tub’s light and dark grey stones. She thought about adding some incense or perfume to the water from one of the wood topped pots at the head of her tub but a languid sigh was all she could manage at that moment.

Soaking joyfully in a state of near complete relaxation, Lucy didn’t know that she was being watched from beyond her own reality.

Plue floated in the water like a child’s toy, fidgeting in the oddly adorable way he always did, before he slid deeper. As he burbled, Lucy could barely suppress a giggle. Plue had become all wrinkly and the effect made him even more adorable.

The many trials and tribulations that she’d been through recently all seemed to melt away with the gentle caress of the hot bath water. Even her rent worries dissolved in the bath. After a few minutes every muscle seemed to have relaxed and every ache had gone away. “Ah, back from the dead!” Lucy stretched again, this time without any stiffness, and grinned. “Pretty cute for a zombie, don’t cha think?”

Lucy waited for a heartbeat, almost expecting a silly reply from a certain wild idiot or a counter joke from a certain annoying blue cat. Something expectedly normal.

Instead she was deafened by silence.

Curling a wisp of her hair around a finger, Lucy let out a long sigh, and weakly smiled. “It’s a shame there’s nobody here to laugh at my jokes,” she muttered out loud, knowing that Plue understood what she meant and wouldn’t be offended. Looking up at the ceiling, she wondered when her next adventure would begin.

A flash of light filled the bathroom nearly blinding Lucy! Brilliant violence instantly destroyed her melancholy moment.

Sheering bolts of lightening exploded over her head and blasted out in a all directions without warning. Great arcs of electricity cleaved steam clouds in halves, quarters, and yet still smaller bits. The surging power erupted into a swirling mass of currents and countercurrents. Each bolt that did not slash outward twisted inward instead.

No dark clouds hung in the skies of Magnolia. No thunder heralded the pyrotechnic display inside Lucy’s bathroom. It was completely unnatural and utterly awe-inspiring.

From the tub, Lucy and Plue both stared wide-eyed in a stunned state, as a vortex of electricity formed. It was prismatic, blazing with countless colors, some of which had no names. The swirling mass raged with an intensity that knew no natural limits. There was no fuel being consumed as even the air itself was merely pushed aside rather than drawn into the growing maw of its sparking core.

Lucy froze, her everyday life forever gone, and gazed into the growing abyss.

The display was too breathtakingly extraordinary to feel even fear.

Electricity shot out in all directions from the vortex and yet it touched nothing at all and left no heat scars no matter how close it came to a wall. The air carried no scent of ozone nor of charring stone or paint. The impossible light alone existed in duet with a growing breeze.

The vortex became a true whirlpool, energy swirling about ever faster, ever more dramatically. Lights changed and bent and Lucy’s vision became clouded by her own tears at the intense brilliance of primal potency.

Without warning, the bathroom was suddenly filled by a cacophony of sound. Blasts of hot air whooshed outward and struck Lucy with enough force to send the towel around her head flying off. She recoiled from the chaos, knocking a pot from the counter on the right end of the tub. As it fell to loudly shatter, its wooden top violently rolling away to wobble in a corner, Lucy trembled in the sight of the terrifying power before her.

It was beyond her comprehension and absolutely dazzling. ‘Amazing,’ her paralyzed mind could only whimper, ‘its like magic power in its truest raw form.’

Then, without even a hint of what was about to occur, the prismatic display seemed to open at the center like some beast’s gapping maw. A sound like a single deep double-beat of a human heart -LUB DUB- echoed through the bathroom. A naked man appeared at the center of the vortex and fell into Lucy’s bathtub.  
  
She had no chance to move before he landed on top of her, his hands and face immediately pressing into her full and heaving breasts, his legs sliding down between her own.

Another part got much too near a place she _did not_ want it to go.

She gasped in a sharp breath.

Instinctively, she screamed one name as loudly as she could.

“NATSU!!”

After screaming, Lucy’s body caught up with her mind, and she scrambled to get out of the tub. The man was motionless, his face mashed between her firm breasts, and his limbs and part flopped limply around as she struggled beneath him. She shoved at his face and then drew back her hands with a wince.

Lucy blew on her fingers before pressing them against the soothingly cool stone tub.

Caught off-guard by the incredible intensity of the heat, Lucy’s mind calmed and she re-evaluated the situation. He wasn’t moving at all; he wasn’t even trying to move. Not even the slightest response to her naked body either.

Lucy stopped struggling. Concern crept into her voice as she spoke. “Hey, are you-?”

Before Lucy could finish her question, she felt strong hands grab her under her arms and yank her from the tub.

“Wah!”

Lucy was tossed right out of the bathroom and landed in a naked heap, her butt pointing back the way she’d come, a draft nipping at her nethers.

She shifted her weight and quickly twisted so that she was sitting with her legs and arms firmly wrapped around her chest and lower body. Her face a brilliant shade of bright scarlet, she looked around the room like a scared rabbit.

‘Oh God, did anyone see that?’ she thought fearfully as she tried to twist her head back enough to see into the bathroom.

“WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO TO LUCY!!” an enraged voice bellowed out from the open doorway. Lucy stared in surprise at the back of a pink-haired man with flames spewing forth from his hands, lips, and eyes.

It was Natsu and he was ready to kill.

“Whoa, Natsu, I’m fine! Don’t destroy my bathroom! I don’t want to have to move,” Lucy said with tears of mixed emotions beginning to stream down her face.

‘So he _was_ the reason my bed was lumpy,’ she thought as she stared at the scene of Natsu holding the naked man up by the throat. The stranger hung limply in several ways, his head lolling to one side loosely, as if he were a marionette without strings.

Natsu brought the man’s face close to his own. “I ain’t making any promises until I know what he did!”

Lucy felt a pinch in her chest. It was a throb of something painful but nice at the same time. She smiled and, for just a moment, her posture became a bit more relaxed. Her breasts almost came into view again before she realized what she was doing.

“He just appeared out of some kind of magic swirling fireworks show,” she explained quickly, “I’ve never seen anything like that before.” Lucy absently rubbed her hands against her legs. Whispering quietly, she said “I can still feel the heat of his skin.”

Natsu glanced back at Lucy and his expression softened slightly.

Shifting his grip on the naked man so he could pat him in several places that were okay to pat, Natsu seemed to think for a moment, then nodded knowledgeably. “He _is_ hot. I’ve tasted fire that seemed cooler. Feels like he’s got some broken bones too. Probably lost a big fight.”

Still, Natsu held the man, and flames licked out from around his fingertips and eyes.

Lucy stood up shakily and started to cross the short distance that she’d been tossed.

A spark went from Natsu to the pink towel beside the tub unnoticed.

As Lucy gently touched Natsu’s arm, her finger tips tracing the Fairy Tail mark on his arm, the towel began to smoke slightly but still went unnoticed.

“It’s okay,” Lucy whispered, “he didn’t hurt me. I’m completely okay.” Touching her forehead to the back of Natsu’s head, she smiled. “Thanks.”

Natsu started to turn around to say something. The pink towel then caught on fire completely, becoming _very_ noticeable. Surprisingly, it burned quickly and warmly, rapidly becoming useless ashes. It might have been bright and cheerful under other circumstances.

As if the towel burning was a signal flare, Lucy turned deep red, dropped down to clutch her arms around her knees again, and squeaked in embarrassment.

“Aw man! Stop burning ‘cause I think Lucy needs you!” Natsu shouted as he dropped the naked man unceremoniously to the floor and started swatting at the burning towel to quickly put it out. Somehow, he only managed to make things worse, sending sparks onto Lucy’s robe which promptly caught fire too.

“Natsu, stop burning my apartment down,” -Lucy wailed while blushing- “and please don’t look at me!”

 

* * *

 

“Look here,” Yukari grumbled as she stepped forward to set herself precisely between Drosselmeyer and Reimu, “what are you doing in my Gensokyo? If this is about that nonsense game, I’ve already quit and I have no intention whatsoever of rejoining. You do know what will happen when it ends, correct?”

Drosselmeyer threw his head back and cackled. “Ah-hah! Yes, you’ve learned quite a bit haven’t you! You’ve even rebelled against your demon before the game’s first round! How _very_ entertaining this has all been! I am impressed, truly I am. My commissioner told me how rarely this sort of thing happens.”

“However,” he frowned darkly at Yukari, “I thought you should know about the change of rules.”

He whipped a sheet of parchment from his coat and coughed. “Hem hem,” Drosselmeyer rubbed at his throat. “Yes, you see, your role as daemon isn’t over yet.”

“I beg to differ,” Yukari growled as she began to circle her prey.

Drosselmeyer ignored her entirely as he went on.

“My commissioner has given me leave to do what I please. However, your former master is much more of a controlling sort and has need of you yet. Since you somehow managed to break the familiar bond, which was so graciously bestowed, my commissioner proposed a new rule to keep the game running smoothly.”

“And what, pray tell, is that rule?”

Drosselmeyer smiled darkly.

“Why, that both daemons _and their demons_ may be active on the game board, of course!”

Someone tapped Yukari’s shoulder. Even before she spun around, she knew, and dread like a cold hand seized her heart and squeezed without mercy. Behind her, the suited demon stood, and in a voice dripping with venom spoke three terrifying words.

“Time to play.”

 

“A human coming to see me? I cannot recall the last time the main course came to my table so placidly,” Remilia said in a darkly teasing way.

Sitting in a massive ornate throne, her chin perched on the back of her hand, she let her fangs show as she smiled like a princess. Licking her lips slowly, sensually, carefully, Remilia affected the most imposing tone she could manage.

“How amusing,” she said and laughed haughtily. “So amusing, perhaps I shall delay dining . . . for now.”

Sitting back, she crossed her legs dramatically and folded her hands neatly in her lap. “Now then, what brings you to my manor, mortal?”

Exuding dark appeal, she used the juxtaposition of her youthful form and mature eroticism to fluster her elderly male guest. With her voice, she created the impression of impending menace. Outwardly, Remilia was every inch a creature of the night, a terrifying vampire lord that could kill without warning.

Inside, she was laughing hysterically.

‘Oh wow, he’s really scared! This is soooo much fun! Sakuya’s going to be so jealous!’ Remilia thought as she barely kept from cracking up and breaking her carefully crafted persona.

The village elder shivered as she grinned at him. “Th-thank you for hearing me out, Scarlet Lady of the Mist!”

“Ah, but it is _I_ who should thank _you_ ,” Remilia said as she tapped her cheek. “When one rules fate as I do, one must give up the notion of casual uncertainty; it is not very often surprise finds me.”

“Y-y-you are most welcome m-my lady!”

Remilia folded her hands and sighed. “What brought you here, then? Tell me.”

The old man rubbed his balding head and nodded repeatedly.

“It involves the Kirisame family’s wayward daughter.”

Ears perking up, she leaned forward. “Oh?”

“Yes,” he cleared his throat, then paled as if he thought it a great insult that might have offended her. Remilia lazily waved her hand to clear the air and keep him talking. “Ah, yes well, my family has received an oracle. It was delivered by a servant of the Hieda family.”

“Is the Child of Miare claiming to predict the future now?” Remilia frowned. “I thought her forte was the past.”

The village elder shook his head slowly. “My lady, the oracle came from the Yama.”

His words startled Remilia but she managed to keep everything but her wings from moving. “Oh? So the ones who judge dead souls have sent a message? What was it?”

The village elder shuddered. He suddenly looked very pale and uncertain. Nervously, he said “I . . . cannot tell you. I was ordered to deliver the oracle to the wayward daughter of the Kirisame family only.”

Remilia raised an eyebrow. “Then why trouble me with this?”

“I was brought here by her,” he pointed almost accusingly at Youmu, who had been patiently and silently standing by him the entire time.

Hakugyokurou’s resident sword-wielder bowed her head ever so slightly.

“So, half-specter,” Remilia lazily gestured at her, “speak.”

Youmu rolled her eyes at Remilia’s theatrics. With barely a hint of her irritation coming through in her voice, she said “I received information that Marisa Kirisame arrived here last night . . . before the party ended.”

A subtle twitch of Remilia’s eyes was all that betrayed her sudden rush of stomach-churning dread.

Flandre had been out then; her little sister, the most terrifying vampire in Gensokyo.

“I see,” Remilia rose from her throne, an almost imperceptible quiver in her right eye. “I rarely guarantee the safety of my guests but rarer still do I permit them to come to harm. If she remains here, then I shall find her. Otherwise, I shall do what must be done.” She stepped down and smiled beatifically at the village elder, sending a chill down his spine.

“You may go,” she said sweetly. The old man bowed with a creak of bones and fled as if chased by the hounds of hell.

Youmu too bowed her head again. Her voice a bit a amused, she offered Remilia a few less-than-comforting words.

“My mistress bid me to inform you that she is ready to lend you aid if need be.”

Twitch. Remilia swallowed drily, her throat felt like it was closing. She glanced back, nodded once, then walked calmly until she knew she was out of sight. At that moment, Remilia instantly flew into panicked flight, her bat wings flapping frantically.

‘Please don’t be broken! Please, please, _PLEASE_ , don’t be broken yet!’ she prayed desperately to any gods, goddesses, or random omnipotent beings that might be listening. ‘If Flan played with the Black-White last night and broke her, there won’t be anything I can do to fight my fate!’

 

The familiar taunting voice blasted apart the last traces of Yukari’s peace of mind. She spun around to confront the demon.

Instantly, she felt a power seize her, unlike anything she’d yet experienced. Yukari looked back wide-eyed as Drosselmeyer finished writing something on a scrap of paper, his maniacal grin growing ever wider by the second.

Even as Yukari’s knees buckled and her legs folded beneath her, Reimu flew past, determinedly frowning.

It was pointless.

“Dominion: Demonic Neutrality!”

The demon acted without hesitation.

In a flash of power, with a single touch, Reimu lost her ability to float and crashed into the ground. Yukari watched her tumble along the grass then shoot up in a fighting crouch, dual wielding paper talismans, her teeth gritted. She could see Reimu’s fierce will to fight and even supposed that she had a chance. Reimu was far from defeated even if she couldn’t use her danmaku spell cards or floating ability.

Still, Yukari had already calculated the likeliest outcomes of both battle and surrender.

Reimu’s eyes gleamed with her determination to fight on and resolve this new incident. She raised an ofuda and started to smile.

Grinning, the demon sneered, “oh? Feel like fighting?”

“STOP!!”

Reimu froze. The desperation in Yukari’s voice was terrifyingly unfamiliar.

The ‘fight’ ended there.

Triumphantly, the demon sauntered over to Reimu, grinning. “Pleased to meet you, child,” the demon said as it reached out to pat her head, “you are someone she would miss, yes?”

 

* * *

 

No one in Magnolia knew him but no one worried about him either.

Arrogantly striding along, clad in a strange black outfit, everyone who saw him took for granted that he was a wizard. He was blonde, big, and couldn’t be mistaken for anything _but_ a wizard. It was common for wizards from other towns to visit for the festival, particularly from the smaller and more isolated villages. The presence of one more stranger, however oddly dressed, didn’t trouble anyone.

But he wasn’t a wizard and they should have been worried.

Grinding his teeth, the man glared at the clueless civilians. ‘Are they blind?’ he wondered. ‘Are all civilians in all worlds this stupid?’ He shook his head in irritation and dismissed them every one as fools.

They were irrelevant anyway.

This man had orders. Following them to the letter, he walked the dark streets, casually searching every dark corner and dank alleyway for a certain someone. He’d been given a clear description and she had at least one obvious defining trait.

Still, the search wasn’t panning out yet. Knowing he’d arrived at the right spot, a particularly lonely and desolate stretch of empty alleyway, the man who was no wizard drew an odd box of metal from his pocket. “Damn it,” he hissed under his breath, “there’s no way she slipped past me. She has to be nearby.”

Clicking a button on his device, he spoke cooly to it, and further proved how out of place he truly was in the city of wizards and magic.

“Lieutenant Commander Jerid Messa to Titans’ outpost command, no sign of the primary objective. Redirection requested, over.”

Jerid released his field radio’s call button and waited.

A soft breeze passed over him, carrying the scents of plants and people, far different from the drab and sanitized atmosphere of the Alexandria.

He wasn’t sure if he preferred this to that or if he thought the two different but equal. Jerid felt uncertain about a great many things as of late. Every day seemed to bring a new and brutal campaign. He’d already lost track of how many people he’d killed in the service of his new master, Commander Than.

Less than a month ago, he might even have refused this assignment.

‘At this point, what does it matter anymore?’ he thought with a sigh. ‘Than’s done more in three months than any other Titans leader could have hoped to achieve.”

“Benefit of being from the real world,” Jerid muttered under his breath.

A burst of static hissed from the radio, tearing Jerid away from his thoughts. “Outpost command here. Our Commander is in conference with Big D. Will advise shortly. Keep a low profile and return to the hunt, Command out.”

Snorting, Jerid returned the radio to his pocket and resumed his search.

“To think, I volunteered for this,” he said under his breath.

 

Not far from the alley Jerid was leaving, Alice stumbled and collapsed against a wall. Breathing erratically, she pressed a hand against her chest, desperate to hold in as much of her blood as she could. Red seeped from her recently reopened wounds and poured from between her fingers.

‘Why is this happening?’ she wondered lightheadedly, ‘this can’t be real, none of it!’

Straining every weak muscle and struggling to remain on her feet, Alice pressed forward with no destination in mind, her vision fading in and out. She couldn’t think of anything else to do at the moment.

Her memories were fuzzy but she knew she had to run.

‘He stabbed me. Oh God, he tried to kill me,’ she thought disjointedly.

She tripped over some garbage, pitched forward, and barely managed to stop herself from falling to the ground. Her hands struck a wall and smeared it with brilliant scarlet. Coughing up pink foam, Alice barely kept herself from passing out as she thought she felt her insides ripping apart again.

Weaving on her feet, she pushed away from the wall and began to walk again. Her limbs were numb and cold. The pain had begun to fade. She wasn’t sure what drove her to continue. With nothing ahead but the slimmest possibility of survival, Alice forced herself forward, but behind her was a blood trail that anyone could follow once they spotted it.

 

* * *

 

Lucy shivered slightly. “Geez, Natsu, did you have to torch my robe too? Wet towels aren’t exactly the warmest things you know,” she huffed in embarrassed frustration as she struggled valiantly in vain to pull on her clothes from earlier in the day without showing any more skin to Natsu.

It wasn’t a battle she could win but it wasn’t one she could afford to lose either.

At the moment, Lucy was in a difficult situation. After the sudden appearance of the ‘Naked Man,’ as they were calling the strange visitor from who-knew-where, Natsu refused to let Lucy go anywhere in her apartment without him practically sitting on her shoulder. Part of her was relishing the attention.

It _was_ comforting.

Comforting, yet _very annoying_.

A girl needed privacy for certain things. Seriously.

Like dressing after mysterious naked people dropped in from who knew where.

Also, like when a pure and innocent girl needs to do something in a bathroom she doesn’t want pink-haired guys to see, hear, or anything else for that matter!

“Natsu, I’ll be perfectly safe even if you’re on the other side of a door. Really, I’m okay,” Lucy said a little desperately. She gave up on actually getting her bra on and just slipped her shirt over her head and towel-wrapped body. “I don’t think this guy is part of some invasion army either so I’m probably not going to get any more unexpected guests tonight.”

Natsu crossed his arms over his chest and pouted.

“I don’t like this. Somethin’s fishy.”

Floating with his wings spread, Happy perked up, drooling a little at the tasty words.

“You really think the Naked Man has fish? Where could he hide them?” Happy asked a little perplexed.

Natsu shook his head dismissively and grabbed Lucy’s arm as she tried to slip past him and into her bathroom.

“I mean, something is weird about all of this,” he muttered, keeping a firm grip an ever more squirmy Lucy. “Naked people don’t just appear in women’s bathrooms unless they’re up to something creepy. So obviously this guy is some kind of pervert! You should be freaked out too, right?” Natsu looked at her curiously, “why do you keep trying to run away from _me_ instead?”

Lucy wiggled and twisted in a very uncomfortable way. Her face was, for several reasons, a bright shade of red. “Please . . . don’t make me spell it out for you! Just let me finish dressing, and . . . other things, in the bathroom . . . alone!”

“I think Lucy needs to do some bus-i-ness,” Happy said in a singsong voice.

“Shut up, cat!”

Natsu let Lucy go and put a hand over his suddenly blushing face. Equally red-faced, Lucy looked at him for a second before dashing into the bathroom alone. The door slammed and drowned out any sound of an embarrassed sob.

“Just go and take that naked guy with you, okay! He’s all burned and beat up so take him to where they worked on Levy and the guys, okay! Just don’t think about anything you might have seen or heard or touched tonight, okay!” Lucy yelled out as sounds came from behind that bathroom door that she really hadn’t wanted him to hear.

He glanced toward Lucy’s bed. The Naked Man was lying there, covered in a sheet, and for the first time Natsu really noticed that he did have an almost scorched look to him. His skin was red and dry looking, as if abraded or burned, and he was breathing irregularly.

“Huh, maybe he really wasn’t trying to do anything bad to Lucy,” Natsu mused as he touched the man’s skin and felt again the intense heat from it. “He’s burning up like a dragon’s fever. Maybe he used some kinda spell to get him to someone who could help with fire magic? That’d make sense, right?”

“Maybe we should just take him to the magic clinic instead of trying to figure it out ourselves,” Happy suggested pleasantly.

“Heh, yeah, maybe you’re right, buddy.” Natsu easily picked up the Naked Man and slung him over one shoulder. “Looks like we’ll be dealing with this guy tonight,” he said while leaping to the sill of a window with his bare bounty in tow.

Happy nodded and started to fly toward the window beside the bed too but stopped when he dropped a scroll. “Oh, I forgot about this,” he muttered to himself as Natsu left with the Naked Man. “Guess I’ll just leave it here.”

Happy put paws to the sides of his face and cupped them around his mouth.

“Hey, Lucy! I’m leaving this flyer here, okay!”

“Just go away already, stupid cat!” Lucy cried out from the bathroom.

Happy snickered to himself. Looking around her apartment for the best place to leave the flyer, he quickly settled on Lucy’s desk at the foot end of her bed, and glided over eagerly.

It wasn’t too cluttered at the moment so Happy set the flyer for the Magnolia Harvest Festival and the Miss Fairy Tail Contest in the desktop’s center. Happy and Natsu had intended to let Lucy know about it in the hopes that she’d enter but they’d fallen asleep waiting for her to come home.

Then things had gotten weird.

Natsu was still feeling a little sick from eating ether nano before so Happy hoped that the rest of the night would be weirdness free. He wanted to go home soon and eat some yummy fish. The whole situation with the Naked Man felt odd to him, like it wasn’t what was supposed to be happening, but Happy wasn’t sure what was supposed to be happening to him instead.

“I’m glad the festival is tomorrow. That’ll be a lot more fun,” the flying cat said to himself as he flew out Lucy’s window.

 

* * *

 

The suited demon laid its hand on Reimu’s head for a time before it winked at Yukari.

Those seven seconds were the worst in the youkai’s long life. Even if it had been her choice to not fight back immediately, knowing how close to death Reimu was made her blood feel like ice water. “Are you toying with us?” she demanded as the demon patted her beloved shrine maiden’s head lightly, musing her black hair.

It turned to Yukari and smirked. “No, not at all. At this point, I think we both know the outcome of a fight is mutual frustration and pointless bloodshed,” it said, sighing. Glancing at Drosselmeyer, it nodded, and the old man’s shoulders slumped.

“Oh, woe is me,” he ripped up the parchment he’d been writing on, “I do so hate wasting good writing paper on unnecessary plot twists.”

Yukari felt her strength return almost immediately.

Without hesitation, she struck at her enemy.

She reached out with her ability and tried to manipulate Drosselmeyer’s boundaries. He had just proven himself to be a high-order threat, one which she could no longer overlook while facing the demon.

Yukari snatched at his boundaries and tried to unmake them.

Nothing happened. Frowning, she tried again, focusing her attention completely on the grinning old man.

Again, nothing happened.

Leering at her, Drosselmeyer slowly wagged his finger, as if to scold a naughty child. Speaking with an uncle’s disappointment, he lectured “that’s not very nice, Miss Yakumo! Not nice at all! And here I thought we were _friends_.”

For a moment, he put on a sad expression, but then he broke into psychotic laughter. “Gah, hah ha ha ha! Ah, well, I took precautions against your youkai abilities _immediately_ after we first met anyway. A little ‘nerfing’ is to be expected, yes? After all, I’m having _far_ too much fun to let myself be slain by the likes of you!”

Drosselmeyer produced more parchment from his coat, his ink quill dripping reddish-black, pausing dramatically to let Yukari absorb the situation. He and the demon smiled at her.

She faced them down, her eyes gleaming with determination. She exchanged a glance with Reimu, whose face darkened with understanding. Unspoken, a plan was formed between them, and each prepared to make their move.

The demon sighed.

“You’re already thinking up of a way to kill us both, aren’t you?”

Yukari didn’t even bother to pretend differently.

Her lips curled into an amused yet vicious smile.

“Would you care to try the new method I just thought up?”

“No, actually, I would not.” The demon shook its head rather honestly. Then it smiled with such genuine warmth that Yukari’s jaw dropped open in astonishment.

With a friendly chuckle, it turned to pat Reimu on the head again, demonstrating a quite fatherly affection. “Yukari Yakumo, you’ve earned my genuine respect, which is not an easy task. Let the gift of my true name mark the beginning of a new, and more pleasingly mutual, contract between us,” it intoned formally.

Striding toward her, it bowed ever so slightly. “I am one of the fallen nobility, late of the service of Lightbringer,” it said honestly. “Though I may now be but humbly one among vast multitudes of demons, I am a player in this game . . . and your teammate.”

It smiled darkly. “My name is Penemuel and _our pawn yet lives_ , Yukari.”

 

* * *

 

Laxus was fairly well known in the city of Magnolia for being the grandson of the Fairy Tail guild’s Master.

In fact, no one ever seemed to call him by name.

Some called him ‘Makarov’s Grandson’ while others opted to use the marginally less irritating ‘Makarov’s Successor.’ Sometimes he wondered if people outside the guild even _knew_ his given name. It made his blood boil but until recently he hadn’t known what to do about it.

Now he had a plan. It was a bit flashy but he felt fairly certain it would work.

In truth, it had to work.

Laxus knew he had to be the one to do this. Fairy Tail needed new leadership and change. What other choice was there? It was, he thought, the only way to make everyone finally start calling his name when they saw him rather than his grandfather’s.

‘When I’m the Guild Master, everything changes,’ he thought glumly.

He couldn’t stand in his grandfather’s shadow forever and he couldn’t do what had to be done as just the grandson of the Master. Thinking of all the work ahead, a worn sigh seeped from his lips. Walking alone, he was lost in dark thoughts.

A fleeting thought of his father passed through his mind but he quickly shoved it aside.

“My old man, huh? Funny to be thinking of him on the eve of my little fighting festival.” Laxus glanced up at the sky, his face a twisted frown, and glared at the stars above. He sighed and cursed under his breath, ‘I should have decided to do this much sooner.’

“Too late now, right?” he grumbled then started walking again, with firm and certain steps, not really focusing on the street so much as on memories of the past. Laxus had already committed himself to his plan. He’d informed his Thunder Legion and they were with him. They wanted Fairy Tail to be as strong as their leader . . . and he wanted to be recognized.

It was too late for a lot of things now.

Laxus was running over his plan in his mind once again, a feverish need to perfect it driving him, when he stumbled over something in the street. “The hell kinda trash did someone toss here?” he grunted as he caught his balance. With a snort, he kicked into the shadows and felt a familiar sensation, his eyes widening in surprise.

His foot had impacted flesh and bone, not the wood and cloth he’d expected, and he saw a small-framed body emerge from the darkness. It flew a short distance before crashing into a heap on the ground beneath a torchlit window.

In the added light, Laxus could see that his unintended victim was a young girl, her eyes shut and motionless. Her bright blonde hair was shoulder length with wispy strands settled over unmoving eyelids. She was strangely dressed but not in a way Laxus could easily express. He supposed she might be a tourist from somewhere unfamiliar.

Her skin was corpse pale in the moonlight.

Laxus clenched his fist and dashed forward.

For a moment, he thought he might have been the cause of her death, but then he saw it.

Swaddled in the night’s darkness, the girl almost appeared to be soaked in black ink, but he knew better. Moving her carefully, Laxus quickly realized that his kick was the least of her problems. Beneath the brightly lit window, he could tell that she was covered in blood, and he knew instantly that he couldn’t have caused so much damage.

She’d been brutally attacked.

“Tsk.” He derisively clicked his tongue and snapped his head to the side. “Nothing to do with me. Dead body clean up isn’t my job.”

Laxus turned to leave.

The girl had clearly been far too weak for this world.

There were too many weak people running around pretending to be strong.

It made Laxus sick. Weakness was sickening.

The girl had felt so very light as his kick sent her flying.

He absently pressed a hand over his stomach and ground his teeth.

His eyes dropped to his boot and a fresh splatter of red there. He sighed darkly. “I’m going to have people to do this kind of crap for me soon,” he whispered, “but tonight, I’m it.”

Laxus spun around and, putting a hand to her cheek, knelt down by the girl. Her skin felt cold to the touch while her muscles seemed relaxed and lifeless. He was about to start walking away again when he felt a twitch of life run through her body. Her eyelids shuddered and a faint moan escaped her lips.

Grumbling to himself, Laxus scooped the girl up and pounded on the door with the lit window, calling out as he did.

“Hey! Open up! Emergency!”

It took only a few moments for someone to answer.

A little old man opened the door and found himself face-to-waist with Laxus. Immediately trembling, he looked up, recognized the famous wizard, then relaxed almost as quickly as he’d become nervous. Smiling as he did, he beckoned Laxus into his home.

“Oh, has Makarov’s grandson decided to pay old Ben a visit?” he asked before noticing the girl in Laxus’s arms. “Oh my! What happened?!”

Laxus shoved the girl at the befuddled man’s. “You figure that out,” Laxus’s hair sparked with electricity, “because _Makarov’s grandson_ has better things to do tonight.”

With that dismissal, Laxus walked away from the dying girl and promptly tried to put the entire incident out of his mind.

Except, he couldn’t completely. There was a feeling he couldn’t shake. It wasn’t a feeling Laxus could explain at first, the right words seemed to elude him, but there was just something not quite right about what had just happened.

The last time he had felt this way was when, as a child, he’d gone to see a live performance by a famous group of actors. The story had been one that he’d read and loved back then. It was a silly and stupid kid’s story and that play wasn’t something he would even think about watching now. Still, it was the only memory of a feeling that even came close to the sensation now twisting around inside him.

Back then, an actor ad-libbed a few lines during one of Laxus’s favorite scenes. He’d noticed immediately that something was amiss but, at the time, he hadn’t realized exactly what it was because the new lines had seemed so natural. Later, when his grandfather was rereading the story with him, he’d realized that the lines he’d heard in the play were missing.

Makarov had then explained the idea of ad-libbing to him. That long ago conversation came back to Laxus unbidden.

“Like the universe just ad-libbed a few new lines,” Laxus muttered to himself as he walked along. He hadn’t thought about that day at the theater with his grandfather in some time. Such an old memory.

“That man . . . he called me ‘Makarov’s Grandson.’”

Even now, fresher memories haunted him more than the past ever could.

Laxus frowned and shoved his hands into his pockets before thundering off down a dark street toward the new day he longed for. Had he known what the future held, he would have stayed instead, and saved countless lives . . .

. . . by taking just one.

 

* * *

 

The demon’s words hit Yukari harder than she cared for them to.

“Arjay is alive?” she asked softly.

Although she hadn’t known the human for very long, he’d fought alongside her, and that alone was enough to bond them forever. The realization that she’d left him for dead, though she’d been completely justified, sickened her.

Yukari’s eyes grew cold as she glared at the demon Penemuel. “If you’re lying . . . .” She let her threat remain nebulous, uncertain now what she should do.

The demon spread its hands. “I have no reason to lie to you about this and we are surrounded by the proof,” it said with such an honest seriousness that Yukari instantly distrusted every word.

“As this portion of the game board exists so too must my pawn,” Penemuel claimed.

Yukari closed her eyes for a moment, letting her mind mull over each word and every intonation or subtle shift in the demon’s demeanor. It took her but a moment to sort out the likeliest truths from its manipulative attempts to trick her.

“Then you don’t know for certain?” she asked carefully.

“I’m quite certain,” the demon muttered in irritation. “What condition he’s in is another question but I’ll attend to him shortly. First, I have something for you.”

It held out a hand, palm up and open yet seemingly empty, and waited.

Yukari did not immediately reach out.

The demon sighed in exasperation. “Do you wish to know the boundaries of realities? If so, then take my hand, and I’ll give back a bit of what I took from you before,” its eyes narrowed as it grinned, “but once you have it, you _will_ be part of this game again.”

“Are you giving me a choice this time?”

Reluctantly, Penemuel grumbled “yes.”

Having a choice, yet feeling as if there were none, Yukari took its hand.

A sensation unlike anything she’d ever felt before, as if her very soul were being injected with liquid knowledge, instantly washed over her. Her mind exploded with numbers and formulae she’d never dreamed existed. Magical equations and methods were learned without effort and she gasped in realization of the truth of her reality. With the demon’s contribution of applied knowledge, and her own ability and mathematical sense, she now understood a great many truths behind the transfictional portals and their many uses.

“Bastard,” she whispered faintly as her face paled, “what are you after? How many universes have you drawn into this so-called game?”

“Enough to make it interesting, I daresay.”

The demon bowed again. “Until we meet again, Yukari Yakumo, keep what you’ve learned a closely held secret or my opponent may just come to silence you.”

It vanished in a fit of cruel laughter.

Drosselmeyer shook his head. “Always so overly theatrical. What a buffoon.” He favored Yukari with a grandfatherly smile. “Well, I shall take my leave now. I’ve played the role requested of me to the letter. Now, I have my own agenda to see to and preparations I must make for the first round of the game.”

Yukari narrowed her gaze at him. “What are you plotting, writer?”

Holding up a hand, Drosselmeyer grinned.

“You have _your_ secrets now and I have _mine_.”

Without another word, he took up quill and paper, and after a few quick scribbles melted into ink and vanished from Gensokyo. She understood immediately. It was his version of a power Yukari now possessed; the power to move between fictional realities or, rather , to move upon the demons’ game board.

Yukari frowned and spun on Yuyuko. “Thank you so much for your _assistance_ ,” she grumbled crossly, “and I do _so hope_ you’ll see fit to _so graciously help_ in the future.”

Yuyuko shrugged. “I trusted you to be the best judge of how to respond to those two. Was I wrong to let you take the lead?”

Shaking her head, Yukari threw her hands in the air and ground her teeth. “No, no, I’m sorry. You’re completely right and I shouldn’t have suggested otherwise.” She sighed and rubbed at her eyes.

“This entire situation is simply distressing. I dared to think him dead and casually moved on! Now, a dire threat hangs over all of Gensokyo! How could I have been so blind as to think my makeshift fortifications would protect us from such monsters?!” Yukari crossed her arms over her chest and pondered their situation. In a matter of seconds, she’d analyzed hundreds of possible choices, found the best of the worst choices, and resigned herself to it.

“There’s simply no choice-”

Before she could say another word, Reimu threw her arms around her.

“I won’t allow it.”

Surprised, Yukari blinked several times. Staring down at Reimu, she saw fear in her reddish brown eyes and a tremble in her jaw. Tremulously, her arms wrapped around Yukari, Reimu refused to let go.

Looking away, Yukari tried to pull free of her grip but Reimu clung to her more tightly.

“You aren’t going. I won’t allow it!”

“That young man risked everything to protect me. He chose to join my cause with a smile,” Yukari said in a soft tone. Choosing her next words carefully, she said calmly “I cannot abandon such an ally. That’s not who I am. It’s also certainly not who you are.”

Reimu bit her lip and clenched her fists. She could barely restrain herself. “Stop it. Just stop,” she moaned pitifully. “Why do you do this? Why? You’re always doing things because you want to do them, aren’t you? Can’t you be lazy this time? Don’t put yourself second to some stranger,” her voice broke as she whispered, “I just got you back. You can’t leave again.”

Yukari wanted to stay, to hold her, to promise never to leave.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

As a youkai, as a woman, Yukari could not be lazy this time. She wanted to be but her sense of duty and her honor demanded otherwise. She might be many things to many people but she had never truly betrayed anyone, not really.

There was a reason deeper still, of course, but that secret wasn’t one she could not afford to share. At least, not yet.

“I have to try to help him if I can. Whatever he is or is not, stranger or friend, human or youkai, I cannot abandon someone who would risk their life for mine.” As she spoke, Yukari turned to meet Reimu’s eyes.

Neither of them was angry.

One had a soft expression, an uncanny smile so gentle and yet so enigmatic that most thought it frightening. The other had unshed tears in her eyes. Both felt the same mix of emotions, each dealt with them as they could.

Reimu clenched her fists. “Are you really going to do this?!” she demanded.

“I have to go. If I have this power then I must use it!” Yukari threw out her hand and instantly tore a gash in reality. However, it was nothing like her usual gaps. Instead of eyes in darkness staring, there was a flash of brilliant light, the flowing energy the same as the power Patchouli had manipulated the night before.

This gap might have carried with it the characteristic red ribbons on its ends but it was vastly different from anything Yukari had created before. It was a golden gap that made even Yuyuko gape in surprise.

Awed by the sight, Reimu took a step back. It had been a very long time since anything had truly shocked her. This was enough. It was a portal, but not to the outside world, the moon, or to any place she could fathom.

It led to another reality entirely. She knew without knowing how she knew.

This gap opened a path between universes themselves.

Afraid, Reimu leapt forward and grabbed Yukari’s arm, crying out “you can’t leave me!” Holding her arm close against her chest, burying her face in a puffy purple sleeve, she wept hot and unrestrained tears. Over and over, she cried out “you can’t go! You’re back and you can’t leave me! Not ever again! Idiot! Idiot! Idiot!”

Yukari froze.

She gritted her teeth and tried to think, to reason.

She failed.

The portal closed and vanished.

Instinctively, she enfolded Reimu in a hug. The warmth of the maiden’s body seemed to wash over her like a gently roiling springtime wave. Softly, Yukari began to rub her back and shoulders, pulling her tighter. Against her chest, the feeling of Reimu’s warmth was the most wondrous sensation. Even trapped by this emotional moment, she felt such strong desire that it stole her breath and mocked her sanity.

Reimu clutched at Yukari as well, burying her face in ample youkai cleavage, slowly calming herself down through that warmth. Reimu breathed deeply of the sweet scent of Yukari, sobbing gently.

The coolness of her tears on Yukari’s skin stirred the youkai’s soul.

“Reimu,” she whispered, “I have two great loves in my heart.”

Stiffening, then still, the maiden listened.

“Gensokyo is the other.”

Still sniffling, Reimu quickly realized the deeper meaning of what she was being told.

She quieted down and looked up at Yukari. She was still holding her tightly, her chin pressed into the valley of Yukari’s breasts, but a familiar stoic hardness had returned to the girl’s eyes. After all, Reimu was a true shrine maiden of the Hakurei.

“Yukari, I-” Leaning back, she started to speak, but Yukari leaned down too quickly.

Unprepared, Reimu’s eyes went wide.

Then, in a daze, she closed them and forgot everything but the feeling of Yukari’s warm lips. Though there was certainly passion, this was not a wild kiss nor of a kind to lead into more than itself. It was a sweet soft sensual kiss that lasted for seven seconds and an eternity.

When Yukari broke away from Reimu, both were slightly breathless.

“I cannot let that man fight alone,” Yukari said quietly, “not when so much is at stake.”

Reimu glanced away. “I know that.”

“He protected me at, I fear, grave cost. _I have a debt_. I dislike being in debt,” Yukari said softly. Then she gave Reimu a teasing grin and suddenly snickered. “I’m certain you can relate.”

“Stop. I get it. I do.” Reimu turned her gaze back on Yukari and smiled gently. “You’ve changed so much since I first met you. I really can’t ever take my eyes off of you, can I?”

Yukari chuckled lightly. “Well, I wouldn’t want you to.”

Watching quietly from the side, rubbing her kimono sleeve between her fingers, Yuyuko watched the two. Refusing to look away, she painfully bit her tongue, and as she tasted red she wondered ‘why did I come here if it was just to see this?’

 

Remilia blasted through the mansion, searching rooms at top speed, her eyes scanning for even the faintest hint of golden hair or spilt blood. “Please don’t be broken, please don’t be broken!” She repeated her mantra endlessly. Her thoughts disjointed and terrified. Chief among them was her worry for Marisa.

Though she’d never admit it, she genuinely liked the damned thief! The thought of her reduced to little bits of meat sprayed around a room left Remilia feeling sick.

Nipping at the heels of that gory image was a mental picture of Reimu’s angry face.

Having semi-seriously fought the strongest shrine maiden in Gensokyo once, she had no desire for a completely restraint-free rematch. Remilia doubted anyone could survive that girl’s fury unleashed without the element of surprise and even then it would be a Hell of a gamble.

Still, there was more to it. Remilia couldn’t ignore her potential guilt and absolute responsibility. Flandre was her little sister but she was her patient and prisoner too.

More to the point, anything and everything Flandre did as a vampire weighed on Remilia’s conscience. All of it was, in a very direct way, her responsibility. It was her original sin and one she could never hope to atone for.

That was reality. Having no illusions about how bloody even the seemingly most happy moments in life could become, she was afraid.

Since arriving in Gensokyo, Remilia had slowly started to forget the blood-soaked suffering in her past. She’d set aside her old fears and believed that happiness was possible in this strange land. Step by step, walking away from the darkness, she’d hoped to defy fate.

Now, it might have crept up on her and already devoured her happiness whole.

Her time in Gensokyo might already be a dying dream.

‘Why?’ she asked herself, ‘why does reality always have to win in the end?’

“Mistress.” Sakuya, the head maid, flew up beside her. “May I be of assistance?”

Remilia brought herself to a flailing halt but almost crashed into a wall doing it. She huffed and puffed and straightened her cap before speaking. “I . . . hah . . . I’m looking,” -gasp of breath- “. . . bleh . . . for . . . Flan!”

Sakuya favored her with a slight smile as Remilia finished wheezing through that statement. “I believe the young lady is in your private bath.”

“EH?!”

Taking off at top speed again, Remilia flew up several sets of stairs, and burst into her private bathroom to find a horrifying scene of carnage!

Clothes were scattered all over the room, splattered in red.

Dozens of bottles of soap and perfume lay on the floor, some broken and others merely spilled, their contents long past the point of salvation.

At the center of the room lay a pile of bodies. Glistening, naked, limbs all splayed out. They were surrounded by a thick puddle, a viscous brown goo that might once have been crimson. Remilia couldn’t be sure.

A strange odor hung in the air, it burned her nose and she turned away from the scene before her. Remilia could smell blood in the air too. The stench made her eyes water.

“What have you done now, Flan?!” she cried out, her eyes damp and her face red.

Flandre drearily stirred. She was lying naked on top of Marisa’s equally bare body, her legs curled around her prey. “Huh? Is it mornin’ already?”

Under her, Marisa opened her eyes and yawned. “Oh, good mornin’,” she said, smiling bleary-eyed for a moment before laying her head back down on the cool tiled floor.

Then, as if someone had given her history’s strongest cup of coffee, Marisa’s eyes shot open. She leapt to her feet, tossing Flandre off of her as she rose. Looking down at herself, then at Remilia, then at Flandre, she threw her hands up defensively and screamed “I SWEAR THIS IS NOT WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE!!”

Flandre giggled, yawned, and went back to sleep on the bathroom floor, bare naked and covered in gooey, half-dried shampoo. Her soft skin was a warm pink. She smiled serenely as she dozed off again, adorably licking her lips as she murmured “I won the special prize.”

“Hey, I’m serious! I’m not lyin’ for once! I didn’t do anythin’ that you’re thinkin’ I did! I’m a pure girl even if I’m not pure-hearted!”

Marisa’s increasingly desperate declarations of innocence were met with a sigh as Remilia waved them away as she rubbed the space between her eyes.

“Geez, calm down, Black-White. I’ve been here before too. Getting Flan to take a bath is a real hassle, ain’t it? Exhaustion is par for the course.” She smiled in relief and started helping the embarrassed and bare Marisa retrieve her cake-and-gelatin-stained clothes.

As Marisa told her a rambling tale of how Flandre turned dessert into a pseudo-danmaku battle, then made bath time ‘dodge the fangs’ time, Remilia laughed and assured her that Sakuya would clean up anything and everything.

Even her reputation if needed.

Remilia was so relieved to find her guest mostly untouched and alive that she completely forgot to tell Marisa about the village elder and his worrisome visit. Not long after, Sakuya came to fetch them both with surprising news from Yukari.

 

* * *

 

Alone in the deep silence of the everlasting darkness surrounding it, the Abyssal One stood patiently. Against its chest it clutched an enormous book. Its hooded head was bowed in supplication as hissing whispers slid from the black void where a face should have been.

Kneeling, it placed the book on an alabaster altar that seemed to rise from a sea of oil.

The shadows drew away from it quickly, revealing a magnificently elegant ivory floor, and soon they passed completely. All was pristine and unblemished white. The walls were unsullied. A canopy ceiling, held up by enormous marble columns, hung high overhead like midday clouds. What little furniture rested within the room, a single round table and four chairs, seemed carved from enormous and ancient bones. The shadows had unveiled a royal parlor.

“Welcome,” a soft feminine voice intoned from everywhere and nowhere.

Bowing lower, the wraith-like demon spread its arms to show it was unarmed.

“Do you still cling to that silly ritual? Human weapons are so far beneath us that I find it quite amusing to display your lack of them,” the woman’s voice suffused the whole of the parlor with her presence though she remained unseen.

The Abyssal One rose.

Something pure and white fluttered down from above.

The demon reached out and seized a single scrap of paper.

From all around it, the woman’s voice intoned “here. Now that the pawns have been placed and the first round soon to come, I have all but fulfilled my contract to Penemuel, so it is your turn to be bestowed a sinful blessing. With this, my time on the board is nearly at an end.”

It’s head shot up. Red eyes flaring, the demon stared upward. “Rules,” it hissed forlornly. “Remain!”

Suddenly, the light in the parlor shifted from clear to tainted.

A reddish hue fell over all.

The Abyssal One trembled but remained demanding.

“RULES!”

“You have quite the nerve,” the voice said in an almost seductive tone. The parlor’s light returned to normal as something new fell from above, appearing from nowhere.

Reaching out it’s skeletal hand, the demon caught a teacup.

“Shall we? After all, soon enough our little club’s activities will start in earnest. That man’s distasteful nature will ruin the flavor of the tea so allow me a cup in more pleasant company. Oh, and the third is still safely unaware of our little arrangement.”

Cradling the teacup as if it were a sacred object, it sat in one of the bone chairs, having all but forgotten its original objective for the meeting. The desire to be closer to her was all it could focus on as it waited for its hostess to appear.

When she did, the parlor was returned to darkness, and none knew what transpired in the white room nor who truly claimed to be its master.

 

* * *

 

Less than an hour after encountering the demon, Yukari, Reimu, and dozens of youkai were gathered at the Hakurei Shrine.

“Well now, you girls must do your best in preparing for the threat to Gensokyo. Though I would enjoy it very much if I could simply watch warmly until you were ready, that isn’t an option afforded to me.” Yukari turned to Yuyuko and smiled. “I trust I can leave youkai matters in your capable hands?”

The phantasmal princess, dressed now in a white kimono covered in embroidered red spider lilies, bowed her head ever so slightly. “I promise that no demon shall again enter Gensokyo uninvited. At least, not without paying for that privilege.”

A single crimson butterfly perched on her shoulder, menacingly flexing its wings.

Yukari nodded in satisfaction and looked to Remilia. Seeing the state she was in, the mistress of boundaries couldn’t help but tease her vampiric acquaintance a bit.

“Don’t let those tears stain your lovely dress, Mistress of the Night, or others may laugh.”

Remilia wiped at her face hurriedly. “Damn it, Gappy, I ain’t cr-crying!” she protested defiantly even as her voice broke. “There’s a r-r-r-rip in my p-parasol! I’VE GOT ASHES IN MY EYES!”

Chuckling, Yukari nodded as if she believed her and smiled very happily to herself.

She exchanged a few words with everyone, except Ran and Chen who were off preparing to make new improvements on the Great Hakurei Barrier. For most, it was a simple exchange of pleasantries, but a favored few got more from Yukari.

A held hand, a private joke, and for one a playful pat on the head.

“Hey! Don’t treat me like a kid! I’ve been through enough already today!”

“Yes, yes,” Yukari said with a chuckle, “I’m well aware, Marisa.” She leaned in close and, in the faintest of whispers, said “however, I must ask this of you: in my absence, might you keep an eye out for trouble in the village? You are the most human of humans so I expect you’ll notice anything amiss.”

Drawing back, Yukari laughed loudly. “Ah, yes, that’s very amusing! I can’t believe Flandre did _that_ to you!”

Marisa grinned and scratched the side of her nose.

“Guess I’m too tasty for my own good,” she said with a wink at Yukari as if sharing a very private joke.

Remilia gave them an odd look but neither took the charade any further than necessary.

Yukari nodded and smiled in her uncanny way, satisfied that she’d prepared for all possible events. She stepped back from the crowd and let herself take in all of their faces one final time. It was possible that this moment could become a memory to grasp onto, a final salvation, so Yukari wanted to engrave every kind face on her heart.

‘To think, this many came out to see me off. I even see a few humans from the village despite everything,” Yukari smiled and waved at everyone. ‘I don’t deserve such praise, not yet at least,’ she thought as an old friend’s parting words echoed in her memory.

Finally, she turned her eyes on the one she least wished to exchange parting words with but needed to the most. Reimu’s face was kinder and her smile softer than it had been all day. “Shouldn’t you be helping my shikigami?” Yukari asked her as she watched the farewells from the deck of her shrine.

Sighing, Reimu looked away and loosely crossed her arms over her chest, the movement momentarily revealing a hint of her armpits. “A shrine maiden who assists youkai instead of exterminating them,” she said almost more to herself than to Yukari.

“Yes, you are taking your contrariness to new levels,” Yukari teased.

“Perhaps . . . I’m just growing up,” Reimu countered.

Yukari smiled. ‘I’ve done as you asked,’ she thought plaintively, ‘so please forgive me for falling in love with your granddaughter, Reimu.’

Out loud, she said “hmm, well, you are certainly an adult in all of the right ways.”

Taking advantage of Reimu’s silent blush, and most everyone else’s laughter, Yukari decided she’d have the last word. Without further hesitation, she summoned her own unique form of the portal power, the golden ribbon-clad gap to another reality, and stepped through before she could stop herself.

Instantly, she was plunged into a deeper dark than she’d ever before experienced. In the formless void, her body seemed to vanish, leaving her with only the impression of her own existence. Although it was deeply disconcerting, Yukari accepted it and feared it not.

All around her, strange crystals glittered like stars in the distance. She knew that each represented another creation, an anime world filled with people who had no idea their lives were born from mere fiction. With a sighing thought, Yukari settled her parasol on her shoulder then gazed out at an infinite number of possibilities.

<If this is the game board for their game, then they truly must be after the ultimate prize.> Yukari knew she was smiling in spite of herself. <Well now, I suppose it’s time I got serious about winning then.>

  
“Just be patient. Let the game come to you. Don’t rush. Be quick, but don’t hurry.”  
-Earl Monroe

 

End of Chapter Six

Next Book: The Battle of Fairies


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